


Lavender Jade

by Alette



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Forbidden Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mysticism, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-02-07 03:04:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 85,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12831972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alette/pseuds/Alette
Summary: Lavender jade, white dreams, blue wishesKihyun is First Consort of the king, a title that means privilege, comfort, and power. Navigating politics in the court, strengthening bonds in the royal household, he has built a life carefully put together and worth fiercely protecting. But everything changes when the king brings a new consort to the household.With Changkyun's arrival, Kihyun finds his perfect life falling into pieces. The new consort is quiet, intelligent, and unbelievably dangerous in ways Kihyun could never have imagined.Court intrigue comes to a height as politics are played by nations, and Kihyun finds himself in the eye of a hurricane. But with Changkyun by his side, more than their hearts are at stake, as all the players are pulled ever closer to a final fate...





	1. Pendants of Jade

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is vastly different from my previous ones. Hopefully it's still good!
> 
> A long starting note for this one. Apologies for the length, but important points need to be set out
> 
>   * Although I've chosen not to choose archive warnings, let me tell you now there is **no rape** in this story. I have never written about rape, and I doubt I ever will. So don't worry about a rape scene popping up unexpectedly
>   * On a related (but absolutely not) note, there is **no smut** in this either. Mature warning is not for explicit sexytimes. There will be implied sexual content, but that is central to the story
>   * The story is set in a fictional world based on the Joseon dynasty in Korean history. If you've watched any sageuk dramas, you get the idea. The difference (if it's not immediately apparent) is that in the fictional country of Yishin homosexuality is accepted. Because, to paraphrase some wise person, you can imagine a fantasy land with dragons, but not one where gay people are accepted? (No dragons in this one though, sorry)
>   * In previous stories, there were frequent cameos by other boygroup members. Here most of the side characters are original, and unless I drop explicit hints, any names are coincidental
>   * I'm still unclear what exactly the angst tag means. I'm using it cautiously. Most sageuk dramas are heavier in nature than regular romcoms, so expect something like that
> 

> 
> I think that's all. Thank you for reading through this (excessively long) note. Let's finally get started!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pebble skittered down a hill  
>  And boulders rolled in its wake
> 
>  _Words I found in myself_  
>  Hyungwon, Third Consort to King Hoseok, 23rd King of Yishin

An overcoat of rich maroon, made of the finest silk and edged with golden brocade. Hair arranged into a tight bun high on the head, clasped in place by a silver cuff set with gold and rubies. Lips painted coral red; sharp eyes shadowed with amber at the corners; light powder dabbed onto a slim neck and over a sharp jawline. Rings of ruby and onyx slipped onto long fingers, a bracelet of gold around a small wrist. Charms of solid silver hung on the belt, one of silver and flamestone affixed to the silk headband holding down stray wisps of chestnut brown. And finally, a thin silver chain with a pendant of flawless, uncut lavender jade.

The First Consort was ready.

He walked down the halls of the palace, flanked by two attendants. The light silk overcoat flowed behind him while kept his hands in front, hidden in his sleeves. He went at an easy pace, allowing his servants to follow him with small steps. Other servants bowed as they caught sight of him, lowering their heads and shuffling to the side. The consort continued walking, barely taking notice beyond an occasional nod. He had matters to attend to.

Kihyun was going out to meet his king.

He stepped out of his quarters and into the main courtyard. A servant immediately came up beside him, opening a parasol. Kihyun had to hide a smile. A weak spring sun hung in the sky, rays gentle on the skin. Still, Kihyun gave a nod of appreciation and walked across the courtyard at a measured pace, enough for the servant to keep pace as he held up the parasol. As consort of the king certain things were expected of Kihyun, and he found no problem in obliging.

He approached the main hall, where he and the Second Consort would wait to greet the king as he returned from a journey to the eastern border of Yishin. The palace was a sprawling one-storey building with numerous wings and annexes, all connected by hallways open to gardens hidden inside. Kihyun had been living in the palace for nearly three years now, and knew every inch of it, even those that he was not to enter. Managing the royal household was one of Kihyun’s many duties, and one he performed religiously.

As he neared the main hall he saw a group approach the doors from the other side. A smile quirked one side of Kihyun’s lips, and he slowed his steps so they would converge on the doors at the same time. The Second Consort always had a full retinue behind him, servants carrying fans, handkerchiefs, trays of goblets. Kihyun knew for a fact that the man never made use of any of them. He simply enjoyed the company of his closest servants, and made increasingly outrageous excuses to have them follow him around. One servant at the back, Kihyun could now see, carried nothing but a single peacock feather, and trailed the others nervously. The new ones were always nervous. The boy would get used to the Consort’s ways soon enough.

“Kihyun, glad to see you’re awake,” said the Second Consort, sunny smile lighting up his face.

Minhyuk was cheerful, bright, and easily the most handsome of the three consorts. He was tall and lean, his legs long. His face was the epitome of masculine beauty, with large, shining eyes and small features. There was something fae-like about his appearance, a beauty almost beyond human. He preferred to dress himself as a young nobleman rather than a scholar like Kihyun did, and the long hair he kept tied away from his face flowed past his shoulders and down his back. His hair was dark red, almost maroon, a very unusual color that meant Minhyuk was either fortunate enough to be born with it or diligent enough to secretly dye it for more than two years. If anyone was capable of such a feat, it was Minhyuk.

“Of course I am awake, I am a consort after all,” said Kihyun, trying not to smile. He had a fondness for Minhyuk that would do no good to advertise.

“Yes, but the king won’t be here for awhile,” said Minhyuk. “We shall have only each other for company.” He brushed his long fringe away from his perfect forehead with a large, long-fingered hand, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he smiled even more.

“I think you have more than enough company, Minhyuk,” said Kihyun, gesturing to the attendants gathered behind him.

“But they are not you,” said Minhyuk with a pout. He stepped to Kihyun and linked their arms. “Come, let us walk in the courtyard to pass the time.”

Kihyun let himself be pulled along. Minhyuk was like a whirlwind, impossible to deny. It was one of the many things Kihyun adored about him. “The king will be here in an hour,” he said.

“Says who?” asked Minhyuk in a sing-song voice. His sapphire blue robes shimmered in the sunlight as the attendant holding the parasol momentarily fell behind.

“We’ve had messages from watchtowers along the road,” said Kihyun patiently, knowing full well Minhyuk already knew this.

“Well I’ve had messages from my own people,” said Minhyuk, tone still light. “The king has been delayed at Samkigo. It will be another two hours, at the least.”

“Delayed? How?” asked Kihyun. He did not doubt the information. Minhyuk’s web of information spread across Yishin, an infallible source of secrets and whispers.

“Trouble waking up in the morning,” said Minhyuk, grin widening.

Kihyun endeavored to keep the smile off his face. Of course. The Third Consort.

“So the carriage shall be late, how terrible,” said Minhyuk happily. “In the meantime, we are free to amuse ourselves.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve told the prime minister about this,” said Kihyun.

Minhyuk gave him a look of mock surprise. “Why, I don’t think I have. How unfortunate for him.”

The mask Kihyun had been working to maintain broke. “How unfortunate indeed,” he said, grinning.

They wandered around the courtyard, Minhyuk prattling on about affairs of little consequence. The Second Consort took a great interest in his servants’ personal lives, encouraging them to share their stories and concerns and listening intently in return. Kihyun believed a certain distance was necessary between master and servant, but did not criticize. He had done enough of that when Minhyuk had first joined the royal household, and none of it had had any effect anyway.

They were approaching the Scarlet Garden when Minhyuk sighed and said, “I miss them.”

“I know,” said Kihyun with a comforting squeeze on Minhyuk’s linked arm. “Don’t worry, they will be here in a few hours.”

“Was it really necessary for the king to personally go to the border?” said Minhyuk. “He could have just sent General Yeon Hu. Or Jo Senmi. At least we would have had him out of our hair for a few months.”

“You know he had to go himself,” said Kihyun. “The king cannot sit in the capital all his life.”

“He could have at least taken us,” grumbled Minhyuk.

“Then who would have managed the household?” asked Kihyun, light smile on his lips.

“Who would have managed the prime minister, you mean,” said Minhyuk, giving him a sideways look filled with mischief.

Kihyun did not answer. Minhyuk did not expect one. In truth Minhyuk was just as involved in court ongoings as Kihyun was, though more covertly.

The Scarlet Garden was in bloom this late in spring, and stood as the perfect expression of its name. Roses brought from over the border many years ago had spread their petals, filling the air with crimson. A few magnolia trees were planted among the bushes, red blooms in display. The paths were paved with stones stained red, rolled and shined until they were smooth and shiny. A few benches had been placed by the paths, made of redwood and intricately carved.

Kihyun had always loved the garden when it was in full bloom like this. It was as though he had stepped into another world, one of strong colors but soft fragrances.

“This place gives me a headache,” said Minhyuk at once, and this time Kihyun gave him a look. It was just like Minhyuk to ruin the atmosphere.

He still sat beside Kihyun on one of the redwood benches. He took Kihyun’s hand in his, locking their fingers together, and Kihyun grumbled but allowed it. He was more fond of Minhyuk than he would easily admit.

There had been a time, not even two crowns ago, when royal consorts would view each other as something akin to enemies. Fighting over the king’s attention led to bitter rivalries, and in turn instigated secret plays to undermine the others’ standings or reputations. More than one consort in the olden days had been executed on false charges of having affairs, a crime that was considered treason.

Those days were gone. Kihyun had been chosen First Consort of the current king, and had decided from the beginning that he needed not enemies, but allies he could trust. The Second Consort had been of the same opinion, which was fortunate since he was just as sharp as Kihyun, if not more so. The Third Consort was of a different type, less interested in politics and court intrigue, but no less guileful than the other two. Kihyun was infinitely grateful for his fellow consorts. He sniped at them and they did the same in turn, but he would not have had it any other way.

The consorts were Kihyun’s family, and he would protect them with his life.

They sat in the garden awhile, talking of matters of no importance. Minhyuk introduced Kihyun to his newest servant, the boy holding the peacock feather. “He’s fulfilling a very important duty for me,” said Minhyuk seriously.

The boy squirmed, obviously burning with the question he could not voice, so Kihyun asked in his stead. “What duty, exactly?”

“I have always wanted a feather ready to wave in somebody’s face, if I should ever feel like it,” said Minhyuk.

“I see,” said Kihyun. He caught the boy’s eye, and gave a reassuring look. “Makes sense.”

“I’m glad you realize so,” said Minhyuk. He absentmindedly played with the lavender jade pendant around his neck, the mark of their title. “It is not easy being a consort.”

“I should understand that, I hope,” said Kihyun, smiling wryly.

Minhyuk glanced at the sundial sitting by the bench. “The king should be here in an hour,” he said. “Shall we set off for the main hall?”

Kihyun nodded. They walked side by side, and thankfully Minhyuk did not link their arms again. He made do with continuously poking at Kihyun’s bun and pestering him to change how he did his hair.

“Minhyuk, please,” sighed Kihyun. “I have been doing my hair like this for years, and I do not plan on changing any time soon.”

“Your hair is beautiful but what is the point if you always wear it in a bun?” pouted Minhyuk. He fixed big, shiny eyes on Kihyun. “I’m sure the king would appreciate it if you let it down occasionally.”

“The king will have to learn to appreciate it as it is,” said Kihyun.

Minhyuk squinted at Kihyun and then stuck his tongue out at him, a childish gesture that made Kihyun laugh.

The laugh died when he saw the man waiting by the door of the main hall. Kihyun still smiled, but this one was brittle, artificial. He glanced at Minhyuk and saw the same smile reflected back at him, but with a touch of mischief in the Second Consort’s eyes.

“First Consort, Second Consort,” said the man by way of greeting, a slight bow accompanying his words.

“Prime Minister,” returned Kihyun coolly. Minhyuk simply tilted his head in recognition.

Jo Senmi was old, but not enough to be considered elderly. He had been a minister even during the reign of the late king, and it showed in the lines around his sharp eyes, in the mottled gray in his beard. With his hooked nose, beady eyes and the dark brown official robes of his title, he resembled an overgrown bird of prey. It was obvious he liked to imagine he had the mind to match. Kihyun had heard of a special kind of bird found across the ocean, large and flightless, that buried its head when it sensed danger. It seemed more a match for Jo Senmi.

“It seems the king is later than expected,” the Prime Minister said. “I have been waiting here for nearly three hours now. With surprisingly few ministers for company.”

“Ah, yes, that,” said Minhyuk. “I had heard the king was going to be late, so I asked the First Consort to accompany me for awhile. I did not inform you as it was simply a rumor, and I did not want to bother you with it.” He giggled. It amused Minhyuk to play the part of a vapid airhead, even when the other person knew better.

A poorly hidden grimace on Jo Senmi’s face. “I see,” he said. “And the other courtiers and ministers, they heard of this rumor too?”

“So it would seem,” said Minhyuk with a bright smile.

“The General does not seem a person to heed rumors,” said Jo Senmi.

“I guess it all depends on who he hears it from,” said Minhyuk lightly. Kihyun kept his face calm.

In the Yishin royal court, three factions fought a cold war. Jo Senmi, as Prime Minister and one of the longest-serving ministers in the court, was head of the largest, his supporters numbering a full four-tenths of all courtiers. General Yeon Hu had behind him the loyal support of the ministers involved in the royal army, and those managing military outposts in the countryside. The third faction was Kihyun’s own.

Kihyun knew he was setting a dangerous precedent. Consorts had never before been involved in politics or the workings of the court. None had ever bothered. They already lived a life of utmost luxury, and the consorts of earlier crowns had hardly any responsibilities, not even regarding household affairs. The court considered this lack of ambition fortunate. The consorts were in the prime position to influence the king; it was foolish to allow them to have control over the court as well.

But Kihyun had done it. His father had been a minister of the court, a junior member in the third circle. He had had the perfect position to witness the wrongs infesting both Yishin and her court, but never the power to change them. Kihyun’s father had a mind better suited for economics and law than politics. Kihyun was different.

With his goal of changing the system, he had gained the support of a number of ministers. He had also gained Jo Senmi as an enemy.

Kihyun did not mind. He had expected opposition. It made no difference that it came from the prime minister commanding a majority in the court. Kihyun had his own allies, after all.

His most valuable one was standing by his side. “It’s time we entered the main hall,” said Minhyuk, still with his effortless air. “Do you not think so, Prime Minister?”

“Yes, Second Consort,” said Jo Senmi, trying in vain to hide another grimace. He let Kihyun and Minhyuk precede him, as was proper. They were of higher rank.

They entered the hall, and found the other scholars and ministers already assembling. They all bowed as the consorts passed by, some more than others. General Yeon Hu barely moved beyond a nod of the head, and Kihyun gave him one in return as they passed by. In the face of the prime minister’s majority, the general’s support was crucial.

The two consorts made their way to the head of the hall, where on a raised dais stood the king’s throne. It was modest, carved in straight edges of ebony. A cushion clothed in red silk was placed on the seat, the only allowance to comfort. A throne was not supposed to be comfortable.

Kihyun took his place by the left of the throne, Minhyuk standing on his other side. Jo Senmi had climbed onto the dais as well and on the throne’s right, but further away. In front of them, the ministers took their places in the hall, arranged in rows facing the walkway. The doors were closed, attendants scurrying off to their places in the alcoves of the building.

And then they waited.

Time flowed, then crawled. Minutes dragged on. Impatience started to show on a few of the less experienced ministers’ faces, but Kihyun kept his calm mask on. He glanced at Minhyuk to ascertain the other consort was doing the same, and was not disappointed.

A small commotion in the cluster of servants Minhyuk had waiting for him in the shadows of the dais, and then a young woman stepped out and scurried over to the Second Consort. Minhyuk leaned slightly to hear her whispered words, and then straightened. He caught Kihyun’s eye, and nodded.

The motion was not missed by the others in the room. Immediately all signs of weariness and impatience disappeared, to be replaced by a solemn watchfulness. Kihyun delicately smoothed out the front of his overcoat. He noticed Minhyuk’s demeanor had not changed at all. Of course, effortlessly flawless was the essence of the Second Consort’s image.

Kihyun was standing by the throne, alert and expectant, when the double doors at the end of the hall opened.

The commandant came into view first. The king’s personal guard, he was tall and well-built, wearing full armor and a sword in a well-worn scabbard. He took a quick look around the hall, and then stepped backwards and to the side.

The king entered his hall. He looked as handsome as ever, sunlight shining off his vanilla cream skin, his lips tinted pink. His midnight black hair was clasped into a tight bun under his black hat, leaving a wide, handsome forehead to view. The loose robe of vibrant royal red concealed the thick, muscled arms he had obtained from years of dedicated practice with sword, but the shape of his powerful chest still showed. He walked forward with steady strides, eyes calm and assured as he looked over his waiting courtiers. In his wake followed the Third Consort.

He was a tall man, tallest of the three consorts and considerably taller than the king. Long, gangly limbs were expertly hidden by a well-made overcoat of purple silk, with thin bracelets to accentuate big hands and long fingers. The lavender jade pendant of his title was the only jewelry around his neck. The consort dressed like a wealthy nobleman, his long black hair tied high up on his head and allowed to tumble down his back. Long black bangs were sideswiped away from a small face featuring large eyes and thick lips, the ends tickling a rounded jawline.

There was something in that face. Something Kihyun noticed, even as the king and his retinue made their way towards the dais. A faint shadow of unease lay on the Third Consort's face, and the uneasy feeling in Kihyun’s own heart grew with every passing second the Third Consort refused to make eye-contact.

Something was wrong. Kihyun kept his face impassive as his eyes scanned the rest of the group. The commandant was as stoic as ever, face betraying nothing. The king’s expression was calm and assured, but Kihyun could see now that there was something artificial about it. The king was nervous.

But nothing seemed to be wrong. The journey had gone well. Kihyun had had word from Minhyuk’s most trusted informants—there had been no reports of bandits, of foul weather or of slights from the entertaining lords on the journey. No one had been injured or lost, the king’s retinue as full as when it had left the capital—

That's when Kihyun saw him.

He was short, looked to be of a height with Kihyun. He was young, and handsome, with a strong, attractive nose, and hooded dark eyes. His hair was long and black, tied back in the nobleman’s style, no bangs. He wore a robe of fine blue silks, in the style popular in the borderlands, and kept his hands folded in front of him as he followed close by the Third Consort.

And there, around his neck, was a pendant of lavender jade.

Kihyun felt like a spear had been thrust into his chest. His mind was reeling, and the floor felt unsteady underneath his feet. He turned to Minhyuk, decorum be damned, and saw in his eyes a reflection of his own—a gaze of shock, apprehension, disbelief.

Murmurs were spreading through the court now, as ministers noticed the stranger and what he wore about his neck. He walked with his face arranged into a calm expression, head tilted respectfully downwards. Kihyun fixed his eyes on him, unable to tear his gaze away. Slowly, like he could feel the intensity of the eyes on him, the stranger wearing the lavender jade looked up. And Kihyun could see in those shadowed eyes the fierce storm of the future ahead of them.

The king had a new consort.


	2. Four Consorts, Three Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the sixth year of King Jungsoo's reign, a sheep wandered across the rocky, uneven terrain that was the Yishin-Eigak border. The shepherd, a poor man requiring every animal in his possession to feed his family, followed after it. He was caught by Eigakese border guards, and was subsequently convicted of trespass and executed.  
>  King Jungsoo was incensed by this unfair treatment of one of his subjects. Emissaries were sent to Eigak, with strongly-worded missives, and similar messages were received. These messages escalated in tone until the last one was sent in the eleventh year of his reign, this one a single red scroll: a declaration of war.  
>  That one sheep would become the instigator of the third Yishin-Eigak war...
> 
>  _The Third Yishin-Eigak War: events leading to, during, and after_  
>  Historian Cho Kyuhyun

The air felt unusually dry. Devoid of any moisture, it clawed at Kihyun’s skin, trying to steal his life’s blood from him. He felt as though it had settled on him. It was on his face, his hands, the beautiful orange overcoat patterned with lilies the king had gifted to him six moons ago. A thin layer of it everywhere. Omnipresent and inescapable. He could feel the weight of it, the dust in it coating him, and it was choking him, the dryness, the harshness.

They were sitting in the king’s private chambers, on chairs around a lacquered ebony table. The king of Yishin, and his consorts. All four of them.

Kihyun sat, stiff-backed, his eyes on the king. The king refused to make eye-contact, instead focusing on his hand loosely interlocked with the Third Consort’s. Minhyuk sat on his other side, hands folded in his lap, all semblance of his careless demeanor gone in the tense air. And there, on Kihyun’s right, sat the _other_ , the one who Kihyun was supposed to refer to as the Fourth Consort.

He was a quiet boy. That much Kihyun had been able to garner on first meeting. He did not talk much, and he kept his chin politely down, but there was a defiance in his eyes, a kind of quiet fire. It stirred up a feeling of disdain in Kihyun’s heart. Who was this person, that he could glide into Kihyun’s life, into his _family_ , and think he would be welcomed with open arms?

Of course, Kihyun had learned the basic details. Younger son of a low-ranking noble, home right by the eastern border with Eigak. The king had stayed at the lord’s residence during his trip, had been charmed by the boy, and had made him a consort. All without news reaching the capital.

That was, Kihyun decided, what hurt the most. That the king had not told him, or Minhyuk. That he had purposely tried to hide it, even instructing Minhyuk’s informants to feed lies back to the capital.

The silence stretched onwards, but Kihyun made no move to break it. He kept his eyes on the king, and waited.

Finally, the tension reached a peak, and the king coughed. “So…” He gave a nervous little laugh.

“Hoseok.” The Third Consort’s voice was level, calm, with only a hint of reproach to it. He took the king’s name more often than the others, doing it with relative ease.

Kihyun glanced at him, and felt a pang of hurt. Hyungwon had been the king’s newest consort, his most cherished, most adored. The arrival of the new consort had most likely left him feeling abandoned.

At Hyungwon’s tone, Hoseok sobered up. “I am sorry,” he said. “Yesterday must have been a shock.”

Kihyun did not speak, fought the urge to bite his lower lip. Calling it a shock did not even begin to cover it.

“I don’t understand why you hid him from us,” said Minhyuk, frowning. “You could have warned us.”

“I am sorry, I wanted to tell you personally,” said Hoseok. “I thought it would be better than one of your… informants sending you a message beforehand.”

“And bringing him into the main hall wearing the pendant, in front of the entire court and without one single warning, that was better?” Kihyun burst out, unable to stop himself. He took a deep, silent breath, and settled back into his chair. He was going to remain calm. He had promised himself that.

Now the king was squirming with guilt. “I am sorry,” he said again, but this time the words were hardly more than a mumble. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Please answer me this, Your Majesty,” said Kihyun, and the formal address made Hoseok squirm even more. “How exactly did you hide this—this young man? Hyungwon has already told me that you forbade Minhyuk’s informants from reporting to him, and that is fine, understandable. But how did you keep word from spreading that you had another consort in your train?”

More discomfort, and in silence. The Third Consort spoke up instead. “He disguised him,” said Hyungwon tonelessly. “He had him join the retinue as a personal attendant.”

Kihyun flared up. “You made a consort act as a _servant_?”

Movement on his right immediately caught Kihyun’s attention. He whipped his head around to find the boy looking at him before quickly turning away.

“Yes?” said Kihyun, perhaps more savagely than he had intended. “Something you would like to say?”

The boy glanced at Kihyun, and then shook his head.

“No need to hesitate,” said Hyungwon. “There is nothing to fear; we are equals now, the four of us.” The kind, well-meaning words rankled in the ugly recesses of Kihyun’s soul, but he did not let it show.

“I only wanted to say that we _are_ the king’s servants,” said the newcomer. His voice was deep and rich, smooth like the highest quality silk. It alone was charming enough to win over a heart, nevermind the handsome face and beautiful hands.

“You cannot compare us to common servants,” said Minhyuk, obviously affronted by the suggestion.

“But we are all in servitude to the king, are we not?” the boy asked. “And if commanded we would do all that was asked of us, and more. We are at the peak of the hierarchy, but the pyramid itself is one of servants.”

Kihyun shifted in his hard ebony chair, miffed. The boy was not a fool.

“That was an astute observation,” said Minhyuk, leaning back. “A kind of depressing one, but astute nonetheless.”

“Thank you,” said the stranger, solemn and sincere.

Minhyuk cracked a genuine smile at that. That annoyed Kihyun more than anything the boy had said so far.

Hoseok cleared his throat. “I think it would be good if you all got to know each other,” he said. “You may leave. Except Kihyun, I must speak with him.”

The other consorts quietly got up, Hyungwon loosely holding onto Hoseok’s hand for a few moments longer. The three bowed to the king, and then filed out of the room. Minhyuk shot Kihyun a look of warning, and Kihyun nodded calmly in return. He could handle this.

He was left alone in the room with the king, and the commandant statue-like by a wall. It was easy to forget the commandant was in a room. Even with his large and imposing frame, he had a talent for blending in with the surroundings. A silent, ever-present protector.

“Kihyun,” started Hoseok uneasily, “I know you’re upset.”

“Of course I am,” said Kihyun. There was no point in trying to hide it. “What did you expect, Your Majesty? That I would welcome him eagerly? I received not one word of warning. You brought him out in front of the court, and made me look a fool!” He took a deep breath, calmed himself.

“I am sorry, I don’t know what possessed me,” muttered Hoseok, looking contrite. “Why I thought that would be a good idea…” He sighed. “I think I did expect you to welcome him eagerly, all of you. You were receptive of Hyungwon when I brought him to the capital.”

Kihyun felt a muscle in his face twitch. _Ah yes, that debacle_. “This may surprise you, Hoseok, but I was _pretending_ ,” he said.

Hoseok looked genuinely surprised, mouth falling open before he finally asked, “You were?”

“Of course I was!” said Kihyun, infuriated Hoseok had never realized. “You were out of the capital for two moons and came back with him, this low-born man whose past and lineage no one even knew!” He fixed Hoseok with a glare. “Why would I be _happy_ about that?”

“But you like Hyungwon,” said Hoseok, still looking shocked. “You gave your blessing that he be made Third Consort.”

“Because you asked it,” said Kihyun, pushing out the words through gritted teeth. “You asked Minhyuk and I for our opinions before you made him consort. You gave us the chance to know him. You did not walk into the court on your return, with him by your side already wearing the lavender jade. Unlike this _boy_ , who none of us know, who knows nothing of being a consort—”

Hoseok stopped him with a raised hand. “His name is Changkyun,” he said, face set into hard lines.

That stopped Kihyun’s anger dead. Hoseok rarely got angry. The king had a softness in him that years of rule had not been able to quash. His anger was a sleeping dragon, slow to waken, but releasing warning tendrils of smoke before the rage was pushed to conflagration.

“I understand your frustration but I will not allow hostility and I will not allow ill-treatment,” said Hoseok, voice hard. “Changkyun is now consort, same as you. And if I learn that you have treated him badly, or attempted to make him an outcast, then I will be very disappointed.”

Kihyun bowed his head, saying nothing. This was the closest Hoseok ever got to a harsh warning, and Kihyun understood the significance of it.

“I am glad, though, that you brought up Changkyun’s inexperience in dealing with royal affairs,” continued Hoseok. “It is true, he has never been in the capital and is not very familiar with all the… machinations of the place. I think it would be good if he had someone to guide him, help him understand all that comes with being a consort.”

“And you think I would be a good choice?” Kihyun stared at the king in disbelief.

“Of course you would, Kihyun, see how quickly you catch on,” said Hoseok, offering a sunny smile. “You are First Consort, after all. You have been consort the longest.”

Something close to rage bubbled in Kihyun’s chest, and he pushed it down into his gut. “Your Majesty, I must respectfully decline,” he said, seeking refuge in formality.

“And I must respectfully decline your declination,” said Hoseok, smiling ever wider. “You heard Changkyun. You would do all that I request of you, would you not? And this is no longer a request.”

Kihyun grit his teeth. Hoseok was set on this, and as his consort Kihyun could not refuse. “Perhaps Hyungwon would be a better choice?” he asked, giving it one last try. “He knows the boy the best, after all. Or Minhyuk, I’m sure he is already on friendly terms with him.” _Just not me._

“I have already considered this, and I chose you.” Hoseok’s smile tightened. “And for the last time, his name is Changkyun.”

That was it. It was beyond Kihyun’s power to refuse. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said quietly, masking a sigh.

Hoseok leaned back, satisfied. “You may go now, First Consort,” he said. “I am sure you have many duties awaiting you.”

Kihyun rose and stiffly bowed. He could feel the king’s eyes on him as he walked over to the sliding paneled door, and fought the urge to turn around and rail at him.

He opened the door to find his attendants waiting for him as always and, with them, the Third Consort. Hyungwon never had servants follow him around like Kihyun and Minhyuk did, claiming the attention made him feel uncomfortable. It had been a point of contention between him and Kihyun in the beginning, with the First Consort arguing that it made a bad impression for a consort to be seen walking around unattended. In the end, Hyungwon had his way. The Third Consort was good at that.

Hyungwon fell into step with Kihyun as he walked down the hallway. “I feel this is my fault,” he said in a low voice. “I couldn’t stop him, and believe me, I certainly tried.”

“I still do not understand why he made… _him_ a consort without consulting any of us,” huffed Kihyun. He stopped, turned to Hyungwon. “Or did he consult you?”

“In a way,” said Hyungwon, looking guilty. “I read his cards.”

Kihyun felt a shiver run down his spine. Hyungwon had an unrivaled talent with the vei, a way of hearing whispers of the future from the eighty-four cards of the divination deck. Readings of the vei deck were dismissed as superstitious rubbish by those who considered themselves modern. But Kihyun had seen enough in his lifetime, in Hyungwon’s readings, to know that only a fool would ignore Hyungwon’s spreads.

“What happened?” asked Kihyun, feeling a mix of dread and anticipation rise in his gut, the same feeling he had whenever Hyungwon read for them.

A group of eunuchs walked through the joining corridor, giving quick bows to the consorts as they passed. Kihyun watched them, calculating how much they had heard, and then turned to his attendants. He signaled a brief motion for them to stay, and then took Hyungwon by the forearm out of the corridor, and into a small courtyard garden nearby. Hidden by the bushes of stargazer lilies, he nodded at Hyungwon to answer.

“Hoseok said he wanted help on a decision, but he would not say what,” said Hyungwon. “I dealt three cards as requested. The first card was six of Flowers, the second three of Knives. The last was the Emperor.”

Kihyun sucked in a deep breath. He was not so skilled at understanding the nuances of the cards as Hyungwon was, but he knew enough. The Flowers suit was the suit of happiness, the six a card of middling rank. The three of Knives denoted quick decisions. These cards were not particularly significant.

The Emperor. The King of the suit of Stars. Although there was only one of each card in the vei deck, the kings of the decks rarely appeared, as though they hid of their own will. Of the six kings the Emperor was the most elusive, and the most powerful. The meaning of the card changed depending on nearly every factor possible, from the type of spread to the cards it appeared in conjunction with to the person reading.

“What does it mean, Hyungwon?” asked Kihyun. “The Emperor, coming up with the six of Flowers and three of Knives?”

“I don’t know,” confessed Hyungwon. “The Flowers six means happiness, romantic happiness especially—”

“Romantic?” Kihyun cut in. “With a consort?”

Hyungwon pursed his thick lips a moment, and then continued as though he had not been interrupted. “Three of Knives comes up a lot in your own hands, Kihyun, so I’m sure you’re aware of its meaning.” He paused, eyes fixed on a white bloom nearby as he mulled over his next words. “But the Emperor,” he said finally. “Hoseok has never even seen the Emperor, which is not that surprising—”

“Because of how it never comes up?” asked Kihyun.

Hyungwon gave Kihyun a look. “Must you?”

“You are right, I apologize,” said Kihyun quickly. “No more interruptions. Continue.”

Hyungwon sighed and then said, “The Emperor does not like royalty, Kihyun. That he showed his face to a king is… unusual.” A sour expression took over the consort’s face. “And worst of all, the black bastard was _smiling_.”

Kihyun did not comment. Somehow Hyungwon was able to see not only what the cards said, but how they changed as well. He could see differences in the faces of the cards, glean information from changes in what should have been fixed paint. A younger, more brash Kihyun had mocked Hyungwon when he had first revealed this rare talent. In time Kihyun had learnt just how foolish he had been.

“So the Emperor hates royals and looked pleased,” said Kihyun after a long silence. “And the king still thought this was a good idea?”

“The Emperor rarely speaks so directly,” said Hyungwon, but a hint of the sour look remained. “The simplest interpretation of the card is one of great change. That it appeared in the same spread as the Flowers six could mean that it is a change for good.”

“That is what Hoseok gathered from a smiling, black-skinned demon?” Kihyun asked in disbelief. “A change for good?”

“He is not a demon,” said Hyungwon, looking personally offended. “He is not malicious either. The interpretation is a valid one.” He paused. “In fact, it is the one I offered.”

Kihyun’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he jumped up in vexation. “So it was you!” he said, pointing a finger at the Third Consort. “You are the one who convinced him to bring in the boy!”

“Put that finger away, Kihyun,” said Hyungwon, and he attempted to sound calm but the guilt was evident on his features. “I did not convince him of anything. The vei—”

“Which you read,” said Kihyun. “You could have changed your reading after you realized what it was for. You could have changed his mind.”

A cold mask settled on Hyungwon’s face. “You think I did not try?” His voice was ice. “You think that I idly stood by while Hoseok, my king, chose a new consort, that I was pleased?” He stood up in a single fluid motion, and Kihyun was suddenly reminded of how tall Hyungwon was. “His mind cannot be changed,” he continued. “I could not do it.”

 _Then no one would have been able to._ Kihyun nodded, feeling guilty now himself. He played victim and simmered in his frustration, but in truth the one with most at stake was Hyungwon. Hyungwon, who had no allies in the court, no merchants’ guild or hidden spies, no noble family name or reputation. Who had only ever had his own wits, and the affection of the king.

“I am sorry,” said Kihyun sincerely. “That was wrong of me.”

Hyungwon brushed it off. “It’s too late, in any case,” he said. “Changkyun is a consort now, and the only way the title will leave him is in death.” He looked down at Kihyun, raised an eyebrow. “How far are you willing to take this, then, First Consort?”

Kihyun frowned in distaste. “Not that far, Hyungwon.”

“Then you shall have to live with Hoseok’s decision,” said Hyungwon, turning to the garden’s entrance, signaling the conversation was over.

Kihyun followed nonetheless. “I shall have to spend even more time with Hoseok’s decision,” he said. “I am to help the boy get adjusted to life in the household.”

“A wonderful idea,” said Hyungwon lightly. His mood had obviously improved with Kihyun’s annoyance. “Of the three of us, you have been consort longest. Who better to help Changkyun into his new role?”

“Anybody but me,” said Kihyun, exasperated. “I have no time to hand-hold this… boy into his new role. There is nothing for him to do, anyway. He needs only to sit quietly and not attract too much attention, and he will be fine.”

“I think you’ll find that will not be very easy for Changkyun,” said Hyungwon as they walked back to where Kihyun had left his servants waiting. “He is a… particular young man.”

At this, Kihyun stopped. “Particular how?” he asked. All sorts of possibilities ran through his head, each one worse than the last.

Hyungwon laughed. It sounded light, carefree, so pleasant to Kihyun’s ears after their conversation in the garden. “I’m sure you can manage, Consort,” he said. “And in case you cannot, you could always play your favorite card at him.”

Kihyun stood where he was as Hyungwon walked away, puzzling over the comment. It took too long for him to grasp the meaning.

His favorite card. Ace of Knives.

He spluttered in outrage trying to shout back a retort, but Hyungwon was already walking away, cackling.

 

It had been a long day.

Kihyun sat at the low table in his bedroom, eyes unfocused on the polished mahogany wood. He was tired, not so much physically as mentally. He had expected it, and things had gone decidedly well, but he was still tired.

It had been the first convening of the court since the king’s return from his journey. Since the arrival of the Fourth Consort. As customary, the king’s consorts stood by his side as he conducted affairs. Kihyun usually took an active part in discussions, but this time he had decided to keep low. He had instructed the other consorts to do the same.

“Do not speak.” Tense words, spoken just as they entered the hall. “Keep your eyes on the king. Do not touch him. Do not look bored. Attentive, but not overly interested. Understood?”

Hyungwon had rolled his eyes, bored. Minhyuk had nodded with a mischievous smirk. They understood the instructions were not for them—both and been through their fair share of court sessions—but that Kihyun had thought it would be less awkward for the boy if he were not singled out.

For his part, the Fourth Consort had nodded, dark eyes solemn. The boy did not speak to Kihyun. He had not said one word to him directly, and hardly ever spoke in his presence. Kihyun had seen him exchange words with Hyungwon and Minhyuk, and even smiles with the latter, but he was mute around Kihyun.

And Kihyun did not mind. It pleased him, in fact, that the boy did not attempt to be friendly with him. He followed instructions well enough, and had been silent throughout the court meeting, a shadow in blue and silver beside Hyungwon. Afterwards Kihyun had given him an approving nod, and the boy had bowed. Kihyun was satisfied. He would guide the boy, of course, ease him into life as a consort, because the boy was here to stay and would not disappear simply because Kihyun wanted it.

Unless, of course, he made use of an Ace of Knives.

Kihyun scowled. Hyungwon spoke of assassinations too flippantly when their fellow consort had in his hand all the assassins in Yishin. Minhyuk’s web had pieces more dangerous than spies.

He banished the thought, and looked to the servant waiting silently at the end of the room. “Sewoon,” he called. “You have sent a message asking for the—the Fourth Consort’s presence?” Kihyun had to stop referring to the consort as the boy, he knew, but it was a difficult habit to break.

“I did, Consort,” answered Sewoon, head bowing. “He should be here soon.”

“Good,” said Kihyun, settling on his cushion. “Any other news?”

“You received a message from the prime minister,” said Sewoon. “He desires the company of all four consorts at his home, any time before the next moon. A friendly visit.”

Kihyun grimaced. “Friendly?”

“Yes, he wishes to become acquainted with the Fourth Consort,” said Sewoon, face carefully blank.

 _He wishes to analyze him, see if he is as capable as the rest of us._ “I see,” said Kihyun. “Please send a message back that we would be delighted to come. We will work out a time suited for all of us.”

Sewoon bowed. He was Kihyun’s most valuable servant. Diligent, quick-witted, absolutely loyal—all qualities Kihyun valued, and had rewarded over years of service.

Hardly five minutes of silence passed before a soft knock resounded at the door. “Enter,” Kihyun called out.

The door slid open and the Fourth Consort stepped in. Kihyun was not surprised to find him alone. Like Hyungwon, the boy did not like having servants follow him, and preferred to walk the hallways unattended.

“Please sit,” said Kihyun, motioning to the cushion opposite him. “I called you here because I wanted to speak with you.”

“Me?” the boy asked as he awkwardly sat down.

A quick flash of irritation reared. Kihyun had called him, who else would he want to talk to?

“Yes,” said Kihyun, attempting a kindly smile. From the look on the boy’s face, it was obvious he failed. “I wished to enquire on how you’re getting along in the palace. Everything to your liking?”

A long pause. The boy’s dark eyes were fixed on Kihyun, as though trying to calculate what answer the First Consort wanted to hear. “Yes,” he said finally. “The palace is incredible. It is an honor to be here.”

His tone was completely devoid of inflection. It was unnerving. “Not missing your home too much, I hope,” said Kihyun lightly.

“Of course I miss my family, but I am glad I am here,” the new consort answered. Again, toneless. Kihyun had never before met a person so adept at concealing emotions like this. It was more than unnerving now, the way the boy’s dark eyes stayed hooded, revealing nothing.

Kihyun tried not to shift in his discomfort. “It may seem lonely at first, but it will get better,” he said, endeavoring to keep the smile on his face. “You are not alone, after all. You are enjoying the company of your fellow consorts?”

As soon as the question was out, Kihyun realized he had made a mistake. The corner of the Fourth Consort’s mouth twitched, whether in amusement or displeasure, it was impossible to tell. “Yes, I am,” he said. “Consorts Hyungwon and Minhyuk are wonderful. And you, of course, Consort Kihyun.”

Something in the way he said Kihyun’s name made the First Consort even more uneasy. He just did not like this boy. For one, he was too clever by half. He spoke so little it was not immediately apparent, but the Fourth Consort possessed a brain like a dagger. Kihyun thought about the prime minister’s invitation to his house. The man would be in for a surprise.

“Thank you for your enquiries, Consort Kihyun,” said the Fourth Consort. “I appreciate your concern.”

It was as though he could read Kihyun’s mind, as though he knew that Kihyun never referred to him by name and so went out of his way to do the opposite. Even more unnerving.

“Of course,” said Kihyun. He paused. “Changkyun.”

The boy—Changkyun—smiled. His dark eyes brightened, and Kihyun saw a sparkle in them that caught him off-guard.

For a moment, he thought he understood why Hoseok had made Changkyun a consort.

He quickly dismissed the thought. He made more pressing matters to think about. “Have you spent much time alone with the King?” asked Kihyun.

“Not much,” said Changkyun calmly. “I have spent more time alone with Consort Minhyuk, truth be told. His Majesty seems to prefer Consort Hyungwon’s company.”

Kihyun nodded, making a note of it. “And Minhyuk is showing you around the grounds?” Kihyun knew this was actually his duty, but there was no problem with delegating, was there?

“Yes, for the most part,” said Changkyun. “He is also teaching me calligraphy.”

That was good. Consorts needed no talents beyond pleasing the king, but they helped enhance reputation. Common people outside the palace, most who had never even seen a consort before, gossipped endlessly about them. Minhyuk’s spies had ears out, catching the neverending rumors and changing opinions, and it was obvious Minhyuk had become a favorite among the people for his famous beauty as well as his talents in traditional Yishini arts. Or so Minhyuk claimed. After all, his spies reported only to him.

“Are you good?” asked Kihyun.

“Not as good as Consort Minhyuk, certainly,” said Changkyun. “I have a steady enough hand, but no talent for it.”

“And painting?” tried Kihyun. “Minhyuk is a wonderful painter as well. Have you tried it?”

“I have,” answered Changkyun. “Not one of my talents.” He paused. “Before you ask further, I feel I should tell you I have no artistic abilities.”

“But what of musical instruments? Singing?” asked Kihyun. “Your family never had you learn any of these?” Kihyun himself had been trained in singing from an early age, and had been praised for his voice even before becoming consort. It was one of the things that had won Hoseok’s interest.

A small smile quirked at Changkyun’s lips. “They tried,” he said. “I never managed to pick up an instrument. I do not have much of a singing voice either.”

Kihyun regarded him. The boy had a beautiful voice, deep, rich and smooth, and he still could not sing?

“And dance?” prompted Kihyun.

A bigger smile this time. “No.”

“Embroidery? Weaving?”

“No, sorry.”

“Poetry? Any kind of writing?”

“No.”

“Swordplay?”

A shake of the head.

Kihyun sighed softly. The last had been a desperate attempt anyway. Even under the flowing overcoat it was obvious Changkyun did not have the build of a man who regularly sparred.

He might not possess artistic talents, but the Fourth Consort certainly possessed beauty. In his robes of gray embroidered with blue he looked a vision, a lord of moonlight. A light blue band affixed with sapphires held his silky straight hair back, all away from his face to leave his handsome forehead open. Kihyun noticed the shape of his nose, particularly when Changkyun turned, how it accentuated an already attractive side-profile.

A consort that looked a consort. Kihyun was pleased about that, at least. He knew there were murmurs about Hoseok’s consorts, how he had but one who was beautiful enough for the title. Changkyun could claim his place alongside Minhyuk in that respect.

“Do you have any weapon skills at all?” asked Kihyun, turning back to the matter at hand. “If someone were to attack you, would you be able to defend yourself, at least until help arrives?”

“That depends,” said Changkyun. “Like, who is attacking me? A skilled assassin?”

Hyungwon’s little comment on the vei card reared in Kihyun’s mind, and he hurriedly pushed it away. “Let us first assume an unskilled assassin,” he said.

“But they will then be followed by an skilled assassin?” asked Changkyun sincerely. “What is the point of surviving the first one, then? The second one will still kill me.”

Something rose up in Kihyun’s chest, annoyance, obviously, but with a trace of… fondness? He ignored it. “An unskilled assassin, only,” he said. “Can you defend yourself?”

“What are they attacking me with?” asked Changkyun. “A bow from a long distance, unseen? Then I cannot.”

Again that rising, and again ignored. “And at close quarters, with a dagger or… knife?”

“No, I will be dead,” said Changkyun, his face completely serious.

This time Kihyun could not suppress a sigh. “As consort you are expected to be able to wield a blade in defense, at least enough to hold off an attacker until help arrives,” he said.

Changkyun’s dark eyes widened in unmasked surprise. “You want to give _me_ a weapon?”

His surprise was so open, so innocent, that Kihyun burst into a smile. At that Changkyun’s eyes widened even further, and now he was leaning backwards, as though he were trying to put more distance between him and Kihyun.

“Of course you will have a weapon,” said Kihyun, attempting a serious voice, but the smile was still there, stubbornly refusing to disappear. “You would not be expected to fight off an attacker unarmed. That would be impossible.” He paused, thinking of Minhyuk in one of his implacable moods, and amended, “For most people.”

“If you give me a weapon, I will still be dead,” said Changkyun, in contrast completely serious. “The only difference is I will have accidentally killed myself.”

“You will still have to carry one,” said Kihyun. He was trying not to smile, but the boy was ridiculous. Was he insinuating he was safer unarmed? “It is a custom from earlier days, when consorts were at risk of attack. You will never have to use it, but you will receive training.”

Changkyun’s dark eyes were settled again, surprise and sparkle gone. “From who?”

“The commandant,” said Kihyun, glad the unexpected surge of amusement had gone. He was annoyed it had appeared at all. “He trained all of us, and is a capable and patient teacher.”

“Hyunwoo will be teaching me?” asked Changkyun.

Kihyun was surprised. The commandant was quiet, closed off, a difficult man to get close to. To hear the new consort call him so intimately was astonishing. Kihyun himself hardly ever referred to the commandant by name, and he had known him three years.

“Yes,” he said, hiding his surprise. “He will be teaching you.”

“That is a relief,” said Changkyun. “I was fearful Consort Minhyuk might volunteer to teach.”

Minhyuk would have volunteered, undoubtedly. Changkyun had grasped his personality quite well, another sign of his intelligence. It would have been impressive, but all it did was heighten Kihyun’s sense of wariness.

Hyungwon was right. The Fourth Consort was particular. He was unpredictable, and Kihyun was not used to having unpredictable players in his game.

“You need not worry on that count, the commandant will teach you,” he said. Kihyun smiled, one of the careful, practiced smiles he used in the court. “Thank you for coming, Changkyun. I am glad we could have his talk.”

“As am I,” said Changkyun, but he did not smile, not even one as transparent and empty as Kihyun’s. His face was calm, serious, no sparkle in his obsidian eyes. “I hope I can prove worthy of the honor King Hoseok has bestowed on me.”

A proper line, a good one. Kihyun nodded, approving. “You may go,” he said, and then to soften the dismissal, “Feel free to come to me if you might need anything.”

“Thank you, Consort Kihyun,” said Changkyun, and something glittered behind the curtain of black.

He rose and bowed before Kihyun could say anything else, and glided out through the door. Kihyun watched the door, long after it had slid closed once more.

An unpredictable player. Kihyun would have to do something about that.

He turned away, and found Sewoon looking at him, unreadable expression on his face. “What is it?” asked Kihyun, more roughly than he had intended. Changkyun’s departure had left him feeling oddly disquieted.

“Nothing, my lord,” said Sewoon, averting his eyes. He bowed deeply.

“You are dismissed,” said Kihyun, walking over to the door that led to his sleeping chamber. “Send in Hyemi and Ahreum.” He paused at the doorway, and then turned and said, “Thank you Sewoon, you have done well today.”

The manservant smiled briefly at that, and then bowed and left through the main door to the consort’s rooms.

The serving women entered a few minutes after, and joined Kihyun by his bedside. Hyemi undid his hair and let it down, while Ahreum carefully wiped the powder and tint off his face. Closing his eyes, Kihyun submitted to their ministrations, and let his mind wander.

Like gravity, his thoughts returned to the conversation he had had with Hyungwon, surrounded by stargazer lilies. The vei, the cards that Hoseok had received. Cards that whispered the future of not just the king, but his consorts as well.

The six of Flowers. The three of Knives. The Emperor.

Kihyun could feel the earth shifting beneath his feet, and Changkyun was at the epicenter.


	3. Serenity Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every day I must suffer fools  
>  And I the greatest of them all
> 
> Written on the back of Yoo Hee's _Underwater Bridge_

A short slash, parried away and countered by a forward lunge. A fluid spin to avoid the incoming sword, and then a jab to the exposed left side. But the opponent was too quick. He neatly stepped away, bringing his sword around in a moment, meeting the attack and pushing it aside. It threw his adversary off-balance, leaving his entire front exposed. After that, it was nothing more than a formality to push the tip of the sword against the padded, armored chest.

Minhyuk broke out into boos. Kihyun and the other consorts clapped appreciatively, while the Second Consort settled back and pouted.

The king pulled off his helm and smiled at the four consorts seated by the practice ring. The commandant sheathed his wooden sword and took the king’s before he took off his own helm, pulling off a glove to wipe at the sweat gathered on his brow.

Servants were running up with handkerchiefs and skeins of water, but the king ignored them all as he approached the bench. “One more day, one more defeat,” said Hoseok. “That was a bad one.”

“I think you did well enough,” said Hyungwon as he rose.

“Well enough? That was bloody awful,” said Kihyun with a snort. He did not bother getting up, knowing the king did not mind. “He would have been cut straight in half if that had been a serious duel.”

“Well he was sparring against a man who is supposed to be the best swordsman in Yishin,” said Hyungwon. He wiped at the sweat on Hoseok’s brow with a cloth. “It’s unsurprising he would be beaten.”

“I was hoping for a closer contest, though,” said Hoseok with a wry smile, eyes closed as Hyungwon continued his ministrations.

“I think you did better than last time,” said Minhyuk. He had water ready, and he passed it to the king as soon as Hyungwon was done. “It’s Hyunwoo’s fault. He could have eased up a bit.” He threw a playful squint at the commandant, who returned it with a flustered stare.

One of Minhyuk’s favorite pastimes was trying to rile up the quiet commandant. So far he had been unsuccessful, but he refused to give up, even after three years of futile efforts. Kihyun would have put a stop to it, but it seemed the commandant truly did not mind. He considered it friendly. Kihyun could encourage that. Consorts should be on good terms with the man in charge of the king’s safety.

Even if they had joined the household but half a moon ago. Changkyun hovered by Hoseok, simply watching the king. He had a notebook in his hands, something he had taken to carrying around wherever he went. He was not secretive about it, but Kihyun thought it would be improper if he peeked while Changkyun scribbled away into it. It did nothing to abate his curiosity though.

“Well, Changkyun?” Hoseok turned to his youngest consort with a smile. “How was that?”

“That was incredible,” said Changkyun, eyes wide in pure amazement. “I had heard you were a skilled swordsman but I didn't know you were that good.”

“Ah, I’m not _that_ good,” said Hoseok, grinning. Blush showed easily in his alabaster skin, and it was gathering there in his cheeks and ears.

“You were amazing,” said Changkyun, and it was obvious he was saying it out of not flattery but complete sincerity. “You were a close match to the Commander of the Royal Guard for awhile in the middle. Incredible.”

Hoseok continued smiling and blushing, pleased, while Hyungwon said with a grin, “I’m surprised you noticed. You were writing in your notebook for most of it.”

“I did,” said Changkyun seriously. “I was recording everything, so I could remember this even when I am old. Their movements were almost beyond human. I tried to put them down as best I could.”

“Ah, an analyst?” said Minhyuk, a sparkle in his eye. “Did you manage to decipher the secret to Hyunwoo’s continuous successes?”

Hoseok laughed and gave Minhyuk a gentle, playful push, but Kihyun kept an eye on Changkyun, curious about his answer.

The boy hesitated a moment. “I would not say it is the secret of success,” he said slowly. “But His Majesty uses more… flashy moves. There’s more showmanship in his style. Hyunwoo fights more plainly. Perhaps that is why his style is more effective?” He ended the last sentence as a question, asking for approval of his assessment.

Kihyun did not know enough about swordplay to agree or disagree, but Minhyuk clapped and said excitedly, “You’re absolutely right, Changkyun. It’s very impressive you managed to notice that so quickly.”

Now it was Changkyun’s turn to smile. Kihyun spotted that little indent that formed in his cheek every time he gave one of his increasingly frequent smiles.

“This is how I was taught,” said Hoseok with a pout. “I don’t do it consciously.”

“You are getting better, Your Majesty,” said the commandant, surprisingly breaking his silence.

“Thank you, Hyunwoo,” said Hoseok. He looked the most pleased he had all morning.

“Hyunwoo, your voice is like the loveliest songbirds in a spring afternoon,” said Minhyuk, voice absolutely dripping with honey. “You should use it more.”

A small flicker of a smile touched the commandant’s thick lips, and then his face was blank once more. Minhyuk laughed, while Hyungwon and Hoseok chuckled. Kihyun smiled too, but Changkyun, who had missed the expression on the commandant’s face, simply looked around confused.

A movement to one side caught Kihyun’s attention, and he saw standing there Seungwoo, one of Sewoon’s favored servants. The boy caught made eye-contact, and then gestured with a bow.

The consorts had an appointment to keep. It would not do to keep the prime minister waiting.

“Your Majesty, you will have to excuse us,” said Kihyun, rising from the bench. “We must make a call to the prime minister’s house.”

“All of you?” asked Hoseok, frowning. He snaked an arm around Hyungwon’s slim waist and held him close, and the Third Consort grumbled about the sweat but did not pull away.

“Yes, Hoseok, all of us,” said Kihyun, a small smile coming to his lips at the king’s childish expression. “So release the frog and we will be off.”

Hoseok grumbled, but let Hyungwon go. He was appeased by kisses, one each from Hyungwon and Minhyuk, and as Minhyuk left he whispered something that made the king laugh.

The four consorts left the practice ring in a group, trailed by Kihyun and Minhyuk’s attendants. The prime minister lived outside the palace grounds, and so the consorts walked to the covered carriage ready for them. It was large, heavy, made of highly-polished dark wood, and adorned with pennants of lavender silk. Images were carved into the paneling of the doors, depictions of flowers and phoenixes. Kihyun admired them as they came close enough to be seen properly.

“A new carriage?” said Minhyuk, grinning mischievously. “I feel expensive.”

Kihyun gave the consort an exasperated look, but it was not unkind. In Yishin, Minhyuk was already one of, as he would put it, the most expensive. His father was the richest merchant in the country, his brother head of the guild. As consort, he had access to more wealth than any man could imagine, and he was the only one among the consorts inclined to make actual use of it.

“We are four now, Minhyuk,” said Hyungwon lightly. “The last one was built for three.”

“It is not new, either,” said Kihyun, as one of the footmen opened the carriage door and set the stairs. “The late king’s consorts used this one.” He entered first, as was proper. It was not strictly enforced in recent times, but the First Consort was of a higher rank.

The carriage was spacious, with two long seats on opposite sides both facing the center. Kihyun sat down just as Minhyuk entered, and the beaming Second Consort sat beside him and rested his head on his shoulder. Changkyun entered last, trailing behind Hyungwon, and took the seat directly opposite Kihyun.

The journey started quietly. A few minutes of travel and the muted sounds of voices could be heard, signaling that they had left the royal compound, and were now passing through the markets. Kihyun looked at Changkyun, found him lost in thought, and then simply leaned back and listened. It had been too long since he had been out in the city. As consort his movement was largely limited to the compound, except on formal occasions, when he rode in the train of the king. As the son of a noble he had never had to work in the markets, of course, but he had still enjoyed exploring them, digging out unusual treasures hidden behind common items, finding tiny stalls between hardly wide enough to enter and filled to overflowing with cheap household goods. It had always been an adventure, no matter how many times he had gone.

“You could treat him better.”

Kihyun was brought back to the present by Minhyuk’s soft words. He turned to the Second Consort, found him looking at him.

“I treat him well enough, I think,” Kihyun answered quietly. He did not need to ask who Minhyuk was referring to.

“Apathy can be cruel, Kihyun,” said Minhyuk, voice still soft. “Especially when it is used to answer adoration.”

Instinctively Kihyun glanced at the other end of the carriage, but Changkyun was engrossed in a quiet conversation of his own with Hyungwon, the two of them bent over that damned notebook. “What are you talking about?” he asked in a low voice.

“He admires you,” said Minhyuk. “He asked me about you, who you were before you were a consort, what you have achieved in the court. He was very impressed.”

Kihyun felt a surge of irritation. “He never asked me.”

“Would you have answered?”

A fair point. “Still, it is about me,” said Kihyun, undeterred. “Why should he ask someone else?”

“Perhaps because it’s obvious you don’t like him?” said Minhyuk. “You invent whatever excuse you can to make sure you are never alone with him. You never address him whenever we have conversation together. You just glance at him, like you’re daring him to speak in your presence.”

“I do not,” said Kihyun quickly, more loudly than he had intended. He looked over at the other two consorts, but they were still busy with their conversation, and thankfully had not heard. “I do not do that at all,” he said, trying to calm himself. He felt strangely exposed.

It was true that Kihyun continuously looked at Changkyun when they were in the same room, but it was not to challenge or intimidate him. In truth, Kihyun did not know why he did it. It was magnetic almost, the way his eyes were drawn to Changkyun. He did not expect the boy to do or say something; he looked at him even when he simply sat in silence, eyes fixed on empty space. It frustrated Kihyun, how he did not understand his own actions. And like most of his recent frustrations, the cause was Changkyun.

“He’s a nice kid, Kihyun,” said Minhyuk softly. “It would make him very happy, I’m sure, if you could be a bit warmer to him.”

“How do you even know he… admires me?” asked Kihyun. The conversation was inexplicably making him uncomfortable.

Minhyuk snorted. “Have you ever seen inside his notebook?”

“No,” said Kihyun, and to his horror he realized he sounded bitter.

“He writes about us,” said Minhyuk. “About the royal household, actually, but we do feature heavily in that. You most of all.”

“Me?” Kihyun was surprised.

“Yes, and in eloquent, admiring words,” said Minhyuk. He made a face. “He actually makes you sound better than you really are.”

Kihyun shifted uncomfortably. He had not known that. He had never imagined that—

A burst of laughter drew Kihyun’s attention to the other end of the carriage. Hyungwon was laughing, while Changkyun sat still, obviously embarrassed. Kihyun felt a rising wave of panic. Had they heard? Had they heard that Kihyun looked at Changkyun for no reason, did they know—?

He stopped that thought. Know what? There was nothing to know.

“What is so funny?” asked Minhyuk, finally taking his head off Kihyun’s shoulder. “Do share.”

“Our lovely Changkyunnie just told me he thinks I'm very handsome,” said Hyungwon, no longer laughing but still grinning broadly. “He asked me why you would ever call me a frog.”

“Because he looks like one,” said Kihyun, while Minhyuk chuckled.

“Perhaps a bit,” admitted Changkyun. “But he is handsome. I mean…” He stopped, rubbed at the nape of his neck in embarrassment. “I had heard rumors of him, back home. He was said to be hideous.”

“People always exaggerate,” said Hyungwon with a shrug. “I really don't mind. They're free to say as they like.”

“It is because Hyungwonnie was lowborn,” said Minhyuk. “Set off a fair bit of envy.”

“I’m no Seokjin either,” said Hyungwon. “No title, no money, no family name. A lot of people found me… unpalatable.”

Seokjin was a consort of an earlier king—Hoseok’s namesake in fact—and was famous for being exceedingly beautiful despite coming from a poor background. It was said no artist could do him justice. Kihyun had seen paintings of him and had been left in awe.

“But you are very handsome,” insisted Changkyun. It was obvious the kid sincerely believed it, even if few people would agree with him. Kihyun saw him close to arguing with a laughing Hyungwon, and felt an odd surfacing of… fondness?

He quickly shook off that thought, returning to the present just in time to hear Minhyuk say, “So all of us are stunning, then, with the exception of Kihyun.”

Kihyun had already opened his mouth to shoot back a retort, but Changkyun quickly interjected, “Consort Kihyun is the best among all of us.”

“Okay, now I can no longer trust your opinions,” said Minhyuk as he and Hyungwon laughed. It was too dark inside the carriage to see if Changkyun was blushing, but Kihyun could see it in his mind's eye all the same, the spots of rosy pink high in his cheeks.

And it made Kihyun feel… odd.

He did not speak for the remainder of the short journey, though the other consorts chatted freely. It was obvious Minhyuk had gotten close to Changkyun already, and Hyungwon looked at the kid with fondness, even if he did not speak as easily with him as Minhyuk did.

Of course Kihyun was miffed that the two consorts had gotten close to Changkyun, much closer than Kihyun had, but it tasted strange in his mouth. Bitter, almost.

Finally the carriage reached its destination, and Kihyun had never felt more glad to arrive at the prime minister's house. The prime minister's compound was large, with one large building in the centre, built in a style similar to the royal halls; gardens hiding behind walls, many rooms bridged together with hallways. The four consorts and their few attendants were led down one of these hallways, to the sitting room where Jo Senmi entertained his guests.

It was a large room, impeccably decorated with ornate vases and delicate weavings and paintings hung on the walls. Kihyun had never liked Jo Senmi, but he could not deny the man had good taste.

There was no one but a few servants in the room when the retinue entered, and the servant that had shown them to the room—the manager of the household, undoubtedly—said, “His Lordship is currently busy with court matters but will be with you shortly. Please, make yourselves comfortable.” With a bow, he backed out of the room and slid the doors closed.

It did not take Kihyun long to realize what was wrong. Including the place for the host, marked with the customary gold handkerchief, there were only four seats.

“Well,” said Minhyuk lightly. “This is needlessly petty.”

“Should I call a servant for another seat?” asked Changkyun. He looked uncertain and awkward.

“That is exactly what Jo Senmi wants,” said Minhyuk. He smiled. “No, Changkyun. Sit.”

The boy still looked doubtful, but did as told. Kihyun did the same, trusting whatever Minhyuk had planned. Hyungwon made eye-contact with Minhyuk, received a nod, and then took the last place set for guests, between Kihyun and Changkyun.

Minhyuk walked over to the host's cushion, picked up the gold kerchief, and neatly folded and tucked it into his sleeve. Then he sat down in the seat, smiling and looking the picture of innocence.

A few minutes later, and the doors slid open for Jo Senmi’s entrance. The prime minister was dressed in casual robes of dark yellow, matching the pleased oily smile on his lined face. The smile dropped as soon as he saw all four consorts seated comfortably.

“Prime minister,” said Kihyun by way of greeting. “I hope you will not mind us greeting you while seated. The journey was brief but we are quite unused to it; none of us are in the mood to rise at the moment.”

That snapped Jo Senmi back to his senses, and he quickly bowed. “Of course, First Consort,” he said. “You have deeply honored me with a visit to my home.”

“It is we who are honored,” said Minhyuk. He tilted his head, eyes dripping with innocence. “But, prime minister, it seems you have forgotten to have a seat set out for you? A very terrible oversight. We are quite embarrassed to find ourselves seated while you stand.”

Kihyun kept his face neutral. Minhyuk had impressed him; then again, when had he not? The fake innocence, the refusal to set the blame of the supposed mistake on the servants. And how could Jo Senmi now say one of the seats were for him?

He bowed again, more stiffly this time. “I shall see about the seating,” said Jo Senmi. “I hope you will not mind being without my company for a short time longer.”

“Not at all,” said Kihyun airily. “We await your return, prime minister.”

Another bow, and then Jo Senmi turned and stalked out of the room.

Finally Kihyun could let a smile show on his face, while Minhyuk giggled. “That was satisfying,” said the Second Consort. “I cannot believe he expected one of us to remain standing.”

“He never changes,” said Kihyun.

Changkyun looked from one consort to the other, confused. “I’m sorry, is this what politics is?” he asked. “One-upping each other at pettiness?”

Kihyun was about to answer, warn Changkyun that politics was a delicate game and keep him from meddling, but Hyungwon had already snorted and said, “More or less.”

“That’s it?” Changkyun looked stunned. “That’s all? I thought politics was about helping the people and the country.”

“No, that’s what gets done despite politics,” said Minhyuk, grinning. “Politics is just being petty and mean to your opponents, all while putting on a polite front.”

Changkyun nodded solemnly. Kihyun turned away to scowl at the lacquered floor. He did not want the new consort taking an interest in court matters.

His thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of Jo Senmi’s servants, carrying a seat. Jo Senmi followed them in, and sat down once they had placed the cushion. He smiled as he looked at the consorts, his typical polite smile once more in place. “I am deeply sorry for the delay,” he said.

“No need for an apology,” said Minhyuk lightly. “We absolutely adore being in your home.”

A little dip in that oily smile, and then it returned. “I am glad to hear it,” said the prime minister.

The conversation continued after that, aided by ample amounts of grease from either side. Kihyun and Minhyuk carried the conversation with the prime minister. Changkyun was as quiet as he had been the first time Kihyun had met him, only briefly answering questions directed at him. Hyungwon hardly said one word. Minhyuk showered the Third Consort with attentive affection, and Kihyun took every opportunity to compliment his many charms. The prime minister’s smile tightened every time, but remained on his face all the same.

This, here, was the reason Kihyun could never make peace with Jo Senmi. He viewed the Third Consort as beneath him, only because Hyungwon was lowborn, and Kihyun could never forgive that open disdain.

Tea was served, and Kihyun took the opportunity to observe Changkyun as he sipped his. The Fourth Consort sat still, looking not uncomfortable but not relaxed. His face was blank, unreadable. Kihyun kept his eyes on him, waiting for it to change, but quickly looked away when he realized he had been staring.

Finally, the call came to a close. Tea and table were cleared away, and all five of them rose. “Thank you so much for honoring me with a visit,” said Jo Senmi. “I hope you can come again soon.”

“Of course, if our duties allow,” said Kihyun, giving the proper answer. “We have been terribly busy of late.”

“Of course,” said the prime minister. He turned to Changkyun. “I am glad to have made your acquaintance, Fourth Consort.”

Kihyun felt a tug of dislike in his gut. The way the prime minister looked at Changkyun, with that oily smile and that snake-like glitter in his eyes, made Kihyun want to pull the boy away and out of sight.

“And I yours,” said Changkyun, deep voice level. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Ah, thank you,” said Jo Senmi lightly. He looked more than pleased.

“I appreciate your taste in art,” continued Changkyun. He motioned to a painting hanging on a nearby wall. “I see this is a work of Master Yoo Hee. It has been signed by her.”

“Yes, I am a great fan of her works,” said Jo Senmi. The pleased look was gone, replaced by one painted with slight nervousness. “They are very rare, you know. I procured this one at great price.”

Kihyun looked at Minhyuk, who raised an eyebrow in return. Hyungwon simply watched. What was the Fourth Consort leading up to?

“You are very fortunate,” said Changkyun. “I am also a great fan of hers. I have seen reproductions of all her paintings, and even read all the histories regarding them. This is _Serenity Before the Storm_ , is it not?”

“Yes,” said Jo Senmi stiffly. The smile was hanging on by a thread.

“An incredible piece,” commented Changkyun. “I hope to look at it in more detail the next time I visit. If I am allowed, of course.”

“Any time,” said Jo Senmi.

Changkyun smiled. “I might take you up on that.”

Their departure was hastened. The consorts and their train were approaching the carriage when Hyungwon finally asked, “What was that about, Changkyun?”

“His painting is a fake,” said Changkyun, a small smile on his lips. “He knows, and now he knows that I do as well. It made him uncomfortable.”

Kihyun stared, dumbfounded, while Hyungwon sniggered and Minhyuk broke into full laughter. “How do you know that?” he asked. “How do you know it’s a forgery?”

“The real _Serenity Before the Storm_ has bloodstains in one corner,” the Fourth Consort answered casually. “A man broke into Master Yoo’s room at the height of her fame, and she killed him with a paintbrush. His blood spattered onto many of her unfinished paintings. _Serenity Before the Storm_ was one of them.”

He said it as though it were common knowledge, unimpressive that he knew it, but Kihyun could only stare in amazement. He broke out of his daze as the carriage door was opened for him, and he climbed inside feeling embarrassed he had been so awed.

“That is really interesting, Changkyun,” said Minhyuk as he entered behind Kihyun. “You'll have to tell us all about it someday.”

Changkyun, still standing outside in the golden sunlight, smiled. A smile that reached every corner, every line of his handsome face, that lit him up until he was shining. A smile that made him glow from the inside out, radiating light. It shone. And it felt like the sun itself was standing there, right in front of Kihyun.

His warm, brown eyes flicked to Kihyun, and Kihyun could not turn away. He was trapped, frozen by the sun before him.

Changkyun looked away, and it broke the spell. Kihyun rubbed at his face, trying to dispel the warmth that still lingered in his chest, and then fixed his eyes on the dark wood of the carriage wall. Nothing had happened, he insisted to himself. He was tired. His thoughts had wandered. It happened occasionally, nothing to make note of.

The Third and Fourth Consorts entered the carriage, and they set off back to the palace compound. But this time Kihyun did not think of the markets, or the treasures he had discovered in them. He thought of sunlight, and tried to tell himself he had thought of nothing at all.

 

The court session began.

Kihyun stood by the throne, settling into the posture that allowed him to stand still for hours on end. The king had offered to give the consorts chairs, but Kihyun had refused. Consorts stood by the king’s throne. It was tradition.

And so they stood on the king’s left, the four of them. Kihyun and Minhyuk stood slightly in front, as usual. Hyungwon had never enjoyed attention and court convenings, and it seemed Changkyun was the same.

The Fourth Consort was almost completely hidden by Minhyuk’s tall frame. Even in the shadows he looked a vision. He was wearing pink, the pastel color of carnations, overcoat patterned with barely-visible outlines of roses. His hair was pulled back in his usual style, with a band of white keeping it in place, and he had painted a soft pink tint onto his lips. He looked like a forest spirit, a fairy prince. Kihyun took in every detail before he quickly averted his eyes. He had been staring. Again.

In his hard-backed throne of mahogany, the king frowned as he read through a scroll. The ministers of the court, all eighty-four, waited patiently for a response. Finally, Hoseok sighed and put the scroll aside. “Why are there so few successes in the civil service examinations?”

The minister for education, Min Shiyin, answered, “Well, Your Majesty, the number of applicants this year was quite low.” She licked her lips before she ventured, “Perhaps if the salaries of government officials could be raised…”

Hoseok leveled her with a sharp gaze. “I reduced the salaries because they were too large a drain on the national treasury,” he said. “Surely you cannot believe a lowest-ranked official needs enough yearly to buy six squares of property?”

“No of course not, Your Grace,” said the minister. She licked her lips again, a nervous habit Kihyun had noticed before. “It is simply that the applicants are men and women from noble families, and they are not willing to leave their family money for a reduced salary.”

“This is who you would have as part of the government?” Hoseok frowned. “Nobles who enter because they see a profit?”

“They are the only ones who do, Your Majesty,” said Min Shiyin.

Hoseok said nothing, just leaned back and seethed. Since taking the throne it had been his personal mission to eliminate noble families leeching money from the royal treasury. He had already set official police on the intercity roads, reducing the need for protection hired from nobles who were usually in league with the bandits harrying the merchant convoys. Taxes paid to landowners by the peasants working the land had been reduced, with plenty of provisions to have them completely avoided. Trade tax was now paid directly to government coffers, no longer via nobles who had previously taken a cut for themselves.

The king’s last great hurdle was the bureaucracy. When he had taken the throne the system had been a mess, with numerous unnecessary positions and salaries exorbitantly high. Only men and women with noble blood were allowed to apply, and they saw it as an opportunity to gather even more money. It had taken a great deal of work before the system could be whittled down. Many ministers of the court had children who had directly benefited, after all.

Kihyun noticed Changkyun lean towards Minhyuk, probably to ask a question, and the Second Consort nodded. A minute later Changkyun again leaned forward and said something, and this time Minhyuk broke out into a huge smile.

“An excellent question, Changkyun,” said Minhyuk, loud enough for his voice to carry out over the room. “Why do we not allow applicants of non-noble blood to take the examination?”

Hoseok sat up straighter as murmurs rippled through the court. Changkyun hung back, looking embarrassed, but Minhyuk beamed brighter than ever. Kihyun kept his face blank, gauging the court officials’ reactions.

“That would be ridiculous,” said Min Shiyin with a little laugh, but as soon as she said it she realized that might not have been the smartest response.

“Why, Minister Min?” asked Hoseok. “Why would that be ridiculous?”

“Well…” The minister wilted under Hoseok’s look. “Because… the education… the upbringing of the nobility ensures they are the only logical choice for government posts, as they are the most capable.”

“I am not of noble blood either, minister,” said Minhyuk cheerily. “You’re not suggesting I would not be capable?”

The minister blanched. “Of—of course not, Consort.”

There was the sound of a throat clearing, and then Song Hijun, a minister of the first circle, stood. “Your father purchased a noble title and lands, Consort Minhyuk,” he said in his sonorous voice. “You cannot be compared.”

“If noble blood can be so easily purchased I don’t see the value of it in the first place,” said Minhyuk, voice airy.

“Of course there is a value,” said Song Hijun sternly. “The upbringing, the heritage. Could you imagine? Peasantry being allowed control of our country? What would the future bring?”

A soft tap immediately drew everyone’s attention back to the dais. “I’m sorry, Minister Song,” said Hoseok softly. “I don’t quite understand. Could you explain it to me?”

A few soft-spoken words, but they were enough. The atmosphere in the hall changed dramatically. The ministers shuffled in discomfort, with Min Shiyin openly anxious. Even Minhyuk had stopped smiling. Song Hijun pulled at the collar of his robe, and though Kihyun was too far to see, he would bet anything that the man had broken out into a cold sweat.

As a credit to his resoluteness, he forged on. “It is that, Your Majesty, we cannot expect peasantry to perform in tasks like these,” he said. “You, as the king and with the most noble blood of all, must… understand…” His words trailed off as Hoseok cocked his head to listen.

The air was frigid now. Court officials glanced around nervously, not daring to speak. Kihyun made brief eye-contact with Minhyuk. The Second Consort had his face carefully blank, but there was caution dancing in his eyes. Kihyun wished he could somehow send a telepathic message to Hyungwon. Hoseok was rarely angry like this, and he needed to be calmed down.

“But I do not understand, Minister Song,” said Hoseok, voice dangerously calm. “Please, explain.”

Song Hijun was now visibly distressed. He shuffled on his feet, and yes, Kihyun could now see the sweat stains at his neck and the rim of the scholar’s cap. He looked at the king, and then at his hands, his eyes darting around for a safe place to land. But there was no safe place for him anymore. He had drawn the wrath of the king, and in Yishin that was a thing easy neither to achieve nor escape.

Min Shiyin, obviously taking pity on Song Hijun, moved to intercede. “I am sure he did not mean anything by it, Your Grace—”

Hoseok stopped her with a raised hand, eyes still on Song Hijun. “I think Minister Song can tell me what exactly he meant by it, Minister Min,” he said. He raised an eyebrow. “Minister Song?”

“I… Your Majesty…” Song Hijun coughed, cleared his throat, mopped at his brow. “I… it was wrong of—of me to speak in that—that manner. I—I apologize…”

“You seem to be having trouble speaking, minister,” said Hoseok. “You were speaking just fine a minute ago.”

Kihyun heard movement behind him, and turned his head just enough to see Hyungwon move past Changkyun to speak to the king. Words were exchanged. Hoseok frowned, obviously unhappy as he whispered back, but the Third Consort shook his head and then retreated back to the shadows.

A tense moment passed in silence as Hoseok surveyed the court. And then, finally, he sighed and rubbed at his forehead with a hand as he said, “We will review Changkyun’s suggestion at the next convening, and put it to a vote.” He raised his head to look over the officials of the court before adding, “I will be voting in favor.”

Kihyun sucked in a deep breath. The king’s vote could only be overturned when over four fifths of the court voted in opposition. The decision would pass. Kihyun would make sure it did.

“Your Majesty,” ventured Min Shiyin cautiously, “I fear even if we open the examinations to… to those outside noble families, we would still have a shortage of applicants. Outside merchant families, few are educated in letters.”

“An excellent point, minister,” said Hoseok, a smile gracing his handsome features. “That is for the next convening as well, then. How we can spread the skill of reading and writing among the people. I eagerly await all your suggestions.”

The education minister seemed greatly relieved by the king’s smile, and bowed numerous times before taking her seat once more.

“Minister Song, you may sit down as well,” said Hoseok relaxedly. The minister jumped in surprise before hastily bowing and sitting down.

The court resumed peacefully, the tense air having diffused. Reports of grain harvests and reserves were reviewed. Minister Han formally announced his retirement from the court and nominated his son for his seat, which the king accepted. Assessment of the roads heading north and west out of the capital was ordered.

Finally, the discussion moved to the scheduled visit of the Eigakese crown prince.

“Reports say he is about half a moon’s journey from the capital,” said Ko Yerim, one of the ministers from the second circle and an ally of Kihyun’s. “He has been making good time on his travels, not once staying more than two nights at any of his hosts’.”

“He is quite eager to reach the capital,” mused Kihyun aloud.

“And eager to stay here as well,” said Hoseok. “More than four moons? I don’t believe any Eigakese emissary has ever stayed for so long.”

“All his messages insist this is a pleasure trip,” said Ko Yerim carefully.

Kihyun hid a snort. Yishin and Eigak had been warring since the birth of both countries centuries ago. Although the wars had stopped in recent times, relations remained fraught. In the peninsula only Eigak challenged Yishin in wealth and military might, and the border between the two nations was a vague, still-contested stretch of rocky terrain. That the crown prince of Eigak would visit Yishin and stay in the household of the king purely for pleasure was an absurd idea.

“I’m quite interested,” said Hoseok, leaning back on his throne. “I look forward to meeting the crown prince.”

In a way, Kihyun agreed. The crown prince did sound quite interesting. Moreover, they would have four moons to know the man who would one day rule their greatest rival, and that was a boon.

But one interesting person had already entered Kihyun’s life, and he did not know if he would be able to handle another.

The court meeting adjourned. The king left the hall first, the commandant on his left, and his consorts following behind. The train was halfway across the courtyard, flanked by parasol-wielding attendants when Hoseok finally said, “I should toss that Song Hijun out of my court.”

“Your Majesty, you cannot toss out every minister that is annoying,” said Kihyun patiently. “Soon we will have no minister left.”

“You heard what he was saying,” fumed the king. “As if he and his kind were so superior. It was vile.”

“Hoseok, enough,” said Hyungwon, voice soft. “I was not offended.”

“Well I was,” said Hoseok angrily. He turned to face the Third Consort, brows furrowed. “He was insulting you, Hyungwon. Saying you were stupid and incapable and inferior. How dare he?”

“He was not insulting me, Hoseok,” said Hyungwon calmly. “He did not even think of me when he said it.”

“Then that is another problem in itself,” snapped Hoseok. He fixed his gaze forward, still seething. Hyungwon sighed silently and then moved to the head of the train to walk beside the king. Hoseok was still obviously upset but linked his muscular arm with Hyungwon’s skinny one, and kept walking.

“Alright, now that we are done defending Hyungwon’s honor,” said Kihyun. Hoseok turned around to shoot him a pout but Kihyun rolled his eyes and continued, “I think we should move onto more important matters, like the coming of the Eigakese prince.”

“I have been collecting information about him,” said Minhyuk. “He sounds sweet.”

Kihyun snorted. “Sweet?”

“He is very popular in his homeland.” Changkyun’s voice came up out of the blue, and Kihyun immediately turned to him. The Fourth Consort shifted, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, and muttered, “My family lives right by the border. We know a lot of Eigakese people.”

“So you agree with my assessment that he sounds sweet,” pushed Minhyuk.

Changkyun glanced at Kihyun. “I don’t know.”

“This is an excellent opener for something I have been meaning to say, actually.” Hoseok stopped walking, bringing the train to a halt. He turned around, smile bright, his dark mood vanished. There was something about that handsome smile that put Kihyun at unease. It looked much like the smile the king wore when he commanded Kihyun to teach Changkyun the ways of a royal consort. Still, he waited, hoping to be pleasantly surprised.

“When the prince arrives, I want Changkyun to entertain him,” said the king.

“No.”

The word was out of Kihyun’s mouth before he could stop it. He blinked, shocked at his own outburst, as the others stared at him in surprise.

“I… I only mean…” Kihyun trailed off because, in truth, he did not know what he had meant. He did not know why he was so opposed, only that he was. He gathered his thoughts. “Minhyuk usually entertains guests,” he said. “He is fantastic at it. Changkyun is still new. We cannot leave him alone with the crown prince of Eigak.”

“I agree,” said Changkyun. “Consort Minhyuk would be a much better choice. Or Consort Kihyun.”

Kihyun almost turned to snap at him in annoyance, tell him that he was not interested in entertaining some foreign prince, but stopped himself in time. It would have been another needless, uncharacteristic outburst. Changkyun had a way of bringing out that side of Kihyun’s.

“I’m sorry, but I have actually thought this through,” said Hoseok with a smile. “Changkyun is from the borderlands. He knows Eigakese customs, he understands their dialect, and he knows more about the prince than any of us do. Moreover, he is close to the prince in age. I think the prince would appreciate a more informal reception, if this trip really is for pleasure as he so insists. Surely Changkyun would do a wonderful job with that.”

The king really had thought it through. His argument made sense, Kihyun had to admit, but he was still unwilling to let it go. Hyungwon and Minhyuk had obviously already accepted the king’s reasoning, but when Kihyun looked at Changkyun he found the youngest consort looking back, uncertainty in his dark eyes.

“It is not that I think he would do a poor job,” said Kihyun slowly, pulling away from Changkyun’s gaze.

“Then what?” said Minhyuk with a light laugh. “Don’t want the prince stealing him away from you?”

It was an obvious jest, but Kihyun immediately flared up. He started hitting at the Second Consort’s arm, while Minhyuk feebly attempted to defend himself as he laughed freely. Kihyun only stopped his attack when he realized the others were laughing as well, Hyungwon almost doubled over, and even the commandant was grinning. He adjusted his collar, feeling himself flush red with embarrassment.

In a habit that was becoming increasingly frequent, Kihyun’s eyes flicked to Changkyun. The Fourth Consort was not laughing, but smiling, the indent in his cheek so apparent. He made eye-contact for a moment before quickly looking away, smiling wider.

Kihyun brushed out his overcoat, feeling even more flustered than before. He looked at Hoseok, who had finally sobered up. “I’m sorry, First Consort, but my decision is final,” he said, still grinning, pale face flushed.

“Yes, fine, do as you wish,” mumbled Kihyun. He suddenly wished to be away from there, out in the courtyard. He felt oddly exposed.

“Then Changkyun will be entertaining,” said Hoseok. He turned to the Fourth Consort with a warm smile. “Minhyuk can help you, if you require it. And as always, there’s Kihyun for you too.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Changkyun, looking a little flustered himself now. He bowed, but Hoseok waved it off with a laugh. The king took Hyungwon’s arm again, ignoring the Third Consort’s halfhearted protests, and the retinue followed as he resumed walking.

Kihyun forced all thoughts out of his head as he kept his eyes fixed on the back of the king’s head. He refused to think about the Eigakese prince’s visit, about the preparations already underway. He refused to think about Minhyuk’s harmless joke that still made him uncomfortable. More than anything, he refused to think about Changkyun.

But Kihyun would find that sunlight and carnations were not so easy to ignore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha I can't believe it's been over a month since I updated this  
> Happy new year?  
> Here's hoping the next one comes out sooner, but with finals coming up, it doesn't look likely. Apologies.
> 
> Fun fact: this chapter is exactly 7000 words!


	4. Tunnels Beneath the Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I took Envy in my left hand  
>  And the messenger in my right  
>  Death I held to my chest;  
>  I collected my rings  
>  And slipped them onto my fingers
> 
> Excerpt from _The Path of the Vei_  
>  _Assorted Poems_  
>  Hyungwon, Third Consort to King Hoseok, 23rd King of Yishin

“Knight of Rings. All mine, dog.”

Kihyun cursed and leaned back while Hyungwon collected the small pile of cards with glee. He added them to the few cards he already had stacked in front of him, and then readied the cards in his hand with a satisfied smile.

“I don’t understand,” said Changkyun. “We were playing the Flowers suit. How did Consort Hyungwon get to play the Knight of Rings?”

“Knight of Rings can be played at any time,” explained Minhyuk. He had been playing a cautious game this turn, and his hand was almost full. “It can only be trumped over by the Queens of Rings, Scrolls or Knives.”

“I wasn’t allowed to play Knight of Rings last turn though,” said Changkyun.

“That is because we played Shells suit last turn,” said Minhyuk. “No Rings abilities work during a Shells turn, except the King.”

Changkyun frowned. “This game makes no sense.”

Kihyun hid a smile behind his cards. He had felt the same at the beginning. Moreover, the only one who knew all the rules and had taught them the game was Hyungwon, who was notoriously bad at instructions and explanations, and who Kihyun still deeply mistrusted when it came to any sort of competition.  

He had taken to it though, even if the game was so obscure it did not even have a proper name. It was a favorite pastime of theirs, and they had played it often when they had been only three consorts. Kihyun won more often than not. Hyungwon, although quite clever and well-versed with the rules, was cursed with the most terrible luck. Hoseok was predictable, and had a strange sentimental attachment to certain cards, saving them for the end without exception. Kihyun’s only rival was Minhyuk, who was sharp and unpredictable. Fortunately Minhyuk also had a very short attention span, which meant he could not keep track of which cards had already been played. It did not make for good strategy.

They had always played just the four of them, but with Changkyun’s addition a sixth player was also required to keep the numbers even. The commandant now sat with them. Kihyun had been surprised to find that he did not need any rules explained to him, but then remembered that he had observed them play for years. Changkyun, however, had not.

“It makes perfect sense, Changkyun,” said Hyungwon. He had already gone over the rules numerous times for the Fourth Consort, but had done so in his scattered, long-winded manner. “The King of Shells is the Death card, true? And Death can send his messenger to every domain—”

Changkyun groaned. “Not this again, please.”

This time Kihyun laughed. “It is not that hard, Changkyun,” he said. “Even His Majesty understood all the rules eventually.”

Hoseok, sitting by Minhyuk’s left, sputtered in indignation, but could not deny. “It is not a simple game,” he finally said lamely.

“Can we play already?” asked Minhyuk, waving his cards about. “We don’t have all day, and I plan on crushing Hyungwon before midday.”

Hyungwon gave the Second Consort a look, but started the next turn with a Flowers’ three. Minhyuk chose to pass, like he did in the previous turn. Hoseok took a few moments’ careful consideration before playing a Stars’ four.

“Okay, how did His Majesty play a Stars card?” asked Changkyun, sounding close to exasperation. “Is that allowed?”

“Yes, because it is a Flowers turn,” said Minhyuk patiently. “Stars always ranks over Flowers, but only if you play an even-numbered card.”

Changkyun gave Minhyuk a flat look. “Now you are just making rules up.”

“No, it’s true,” said Kihyun. “You can play Stars during Flowers’ turns, but only if they are even-numbered.”

“That makes no sense,” said Changkyun solemnly. He played a Flowers’ seven, and then hesitated and turned to Kihyun. “Is this allowed?” he asked, uncertain, dark eyes searching.

Kihyun felt a smile tug at his lips. “Yes, that is allowed,” he said. He played a six of Stars.

After him, the commandant played a Flowers’ five, and Kihyun won the hand.

They continued for a few more rounds, occasionally stopping to explain a caveat or a rule to the Fourth Consort, and then had a trick round, where the collected and unaligned cards were added to their hands.

“I didn’t win anything,” whined Changkyun when they reached the trick round. He crossed his arms and pouted. “This game makes no sense.”

Kihyun did his best to look anywhere else. He did not succeed.

“Aww, poor Changkyunnie,” cooed Minhyuk. He reached across the table to pinch the Fourth Consort’s cheek. “I did not win any hands either.”

“But you did that on purpose,” said Changkyun, still whining, and now Kihyun could almost feel himself sweating with the effort to not look.

Kihyun had decided he did not hate Changkyun. There was nothing to hate about the Fourth Consort, really. He was gentle and kind, and he treated the servants well. He was intelligent and well-read but had no interest in court politics. Although he had been reserved in the beginning, more and more he revealed a sensitive, charming personality. Kihyun could truly see now why Hoseok had made him consort.

He still could not bear Changkyun’s presence.

It was not disdain, at least no longer. Changkyun was a pleasing young man, a good consort. He did nothing to insult Kihyun, or annoy him. He had not done anything wrong at all.

And yet still.

Something about Changkyun made Kihyun uncomfortable. He could not pinpoint exactly what it was, which just made him even more uncomfortable. When they were in a room together Kihyun’s eyes were naturally drawn to the Fourth Consort. No matter how Kihyun fought it, it seemed an unbreakable habit. Again and again, like iron to a magnet, he would find himself watching Changkyun.

It was more than that. When they were not in the same place, Kihyun would oftentimes wonder where Changkyun was, if he was safe and comfortable, even though he knew he was in the royal compound and had no want for safety or comfort. He knew Changkyun spent most of his free time in the library, and he would find himself walking past it all day, but could never bring himself to enter. He would listen intently whenever anyone spoke of the Fourth Consort, and then immediately feel embarrassed at having been so interested.

Changkyun made Kihyun act strange and unlike himself. And it made Kihyun uncomfortable.

Kihyun spent the rest of the game trying to focus on his cards. He regretted sitting next to Changkyun, fighting the urge to turn to him every time the youngest consort complained about the rules, or asked for clarification, or did anything, really. It was another thing he had done subconsciously, taking the place next to Changkyun even though there had been others available.

Minhyuk ended up winning the game, taking the last hand with a satisfied smile. “And again, order is restored,” he said, in the midst of a celebratory dance. “So sorry, Kihyun.” Hoseok laughed at the Second Consort’s words and pulled him into his lap, kissing him sweetly.

“I was having an off day,” grumbled Kihyun.

“Or maybe I am just better than you now,” said Minhyuk, still perched on the king’s lap.

“Next time I will destroy you.”

“I would like to see you try.” Minhyuk stuck out his tongue.

Hyungwon sighed. “Why can I never win this damned game?”

“You’re not the only one,” said Hoseok with a laugh. He gently nudged Minhyuk to slide off his lap, and then stood up and took the Second Consort’s hand. “I will be going riding with Minhyuk now,” he said.

Minhyuk smiled his bright, satisfied smile once more and then stood up, linking his arms with the king’s. The commandant stood up as well, ready to accompany them.

“I will be heading to the library, then,” said Hyungwon. He stretched his long gangly arms over his head and looked to the Fourth Consort. Changkyun smiled at the invitation, and nodded.

Kihyun felt a rise of bitterness in his throat. How did the others do it? How were they so relaxed and free around the boy? Did Hyungwon not feel the same twisting in his belly as Kihyun did?

As Changkyun got ready to rise, Hoseok cleared his throat and said, “Perhaps Changkyun could spend some time with Kihyun.”

Kihyun whipped his head to face the king, desperately trying to communicate with his eyes how much he was against this. Hoseok, true to his personality, smiled and pretended he did not notice.

“And do what?” asked Hyungwon with a laugh.

“Anything,” said Hoseok lightly. “Kihyun could show him around the grounds, to any place Changkyun is not yet familiar with. Or Changkyun could show Kihyun his rooms.”

It was a perfectly innocent suggestion, but Kihyun felt heat flood his face. He scratched at his cheek to hide it, and in looking away from the king his eyes fell on Changkyun. The Fourth Consort did not look perturbed at all. He looked eager.

The shine in Changkyun’s eyes flustered Kihyun even more.

“I think it would be good if the First and Fourth Consorts got to know each other better,” said Hoseok. No one questioned that. It was obvious Kihyun and Changkyun did not spend much time together alone, if any at all. Kihyun had made sure of that. The discomfort would do nothing but grow if they were alone together, and Kihyun thought that would not be a good idea.

Changkyun obviously did not feel the same, which made Kihyun feel… disappointed.

“Alright then, I shall see you later,” said Hyungwon as he rose. He lightly yanked the end on the end of Changkyun’s ponytail, and the younger shot him a look of faux annoyance before grinning. Kihyun felt a tug in his chest, which he quickly ignored.

Hoseok smiled and nodded, satisfied, before leaving with a beaming Minhyuk, the commandant in tow. Hyungwon followed behind, but not before first shooting Kihyun a warning look. The Third Consort had become very protective of the Fourth. Kihyun rolled his eyes—he was not going to eat the boy—but nodded.

Which left Kihyun with Changkyun. The First Consort turned to the other, put on a smile which must have looked as pained as it felt, and asked, “What would you like to do?” He immediately regretted his choice of words. Changkyun was not a child, why was Kihyun speaking to him like one? What a fool.

If Changkyun thought the same, he hid it well. “If you don’t mind, I could show you my rooms, like His Majesty suggested,” he said. “I have modified a lot of my quarters. If you would like to see them.”

“Yes, sounds wonderful,” said Kihyun. It did not, actually, but he was willing to go wherever Changkyun wanted to go.

The Fourth Consort smiled, showing a dimple, and Kihyun felt both delight and immense regret.

Changkyun rose, and then held out his hand to help Kihyun up. Kihyun pretended he did not see. “Let us go, then,” he said.

They walked down the hallways side-by-side, Kihyun’s flock of attendants trailing behind. Feeling the air grow stale and awkward with the silence, Kihyun attempted conversation. “Are you enjoying your time in the compound?” he asked, and then again wanted to hit himself for his idiotic words.

“I am,” said Changkyun, smiling. He looked relaxed and comfortable, and Kihyun thought of the first time he had asked the Fourth Consort this question, how different he had been then. The change was palpable. “The library is much larger than the one I had at home,” he continued. “I am enjoying discovering just how many books it contains.”

“You spend a lot of time in there, even past sunset,” said Kihyun. “Be careful with the candles. Some of the books and scrolls are quite old, and could catch fire easily.”

When he did not get an answer, he turned to Changkyun and found him staring at him. The boy started and looked away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For a moment it seemed like you cared about me.”

Kihyun grinned. “I was actually thinking about all the rare scrolls, so…”

“I can hardly believe it,” sighed Changkyun. “A man has to turn into a manuscript to receive affection around here.”

At that, Kihyun laughed. He saw Changkyun staring at him again, looking ruffled, and that made him laugh even more. Changkyun pouted at that, and then faced forward once more, lower lip still sticking out a bit. A fond smile stayed on Kihyun’s lips even after the laughter had subsided.

They made their way to the wing Changkyun had been given when he had arrived. It was the furthest from the heart of the building where the king slept and resided. The further they walked the more Kihyun was aware of how quiet the halls were. Fewer servants walked the corridors, and the sounds of the busy palace center were distant.

Soon they turned a corner into a collection of rooms that had been refurbished. A small garden stood in the center, open to the air and filled with sweet-smelling ferns and grasses. The rooms circled it, connected by a narrow pathway of white wood which had been left rough and bumpy, free of varnish. Small stone paths crisscrossed the garden, creating patterns of ivory among the lush green.

“This is where I stay,” announced Changkyun, leading Kihyun down the white wood path. He motioned to a room nearby and said, “I sleep in here. And I keep my possessions in this room.”

They entered the second room, and Kihyun looked around interestedly. Changkyun had an eclectic taste. The furniture was thin, sleek, sharp-edged; a battered, very old, and certainly foreign table stood in the center, looking at odds with the rest of the room. Surprisingly, the effect was not unpleasing.

The whole room seemed an expression of Changkyun. An unusual range of objects was displayed along the walls, set on shelves attached at seemingly random heights. Kihyun walked up to one and peered closely at it. It was small, made of pieces of colored glass fused together in a vaguely spherical shape, and seemed to have no discernible function at all.

He turned to the Fourth Consort. “What does this do?” he asked, gesturing to the object.

“As far as I know, nothing,” said Changkyun. In answer to Kihyun’s questioning look he continued, “I asked some of the servants to look for things they found interesting. One of them brought me this.”

“Why would you take it if you did not know what it did?” asked Kihyun, puzzled.

“Because it is beautiful, and my heart wanted it,” said Changkyun plainly. “Must everything have a purpose?”

“I guess not,” said Kihyun, taken off-guard by Changkyun’s words. He looked around the room, trying to remember what it had looked like before the Fourth Consort’s arrival, and then pointed to the wall opposite the door. “There was a window here,” he said.

“Yes, I had it covered up,” said Changkyun. He pushed aside the painting hung there—an odd jumble of paints that made Kihyun think of being underwater—and showed the remains of the boarded-up window.

“Why?” asked Kihyun. He tried to remember what was on the other side. A garden, he thought, one of many throughout the palace and completely ordinary.

“That is my private area,” said Changkyun, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Private?” said Kihyun, surprised. “These are your rooms, Changkyun. They are all private.”

“No,” said Changkyun. He looked even more embarrassed now, and a slight dusting of pink was visible in his tanned cheeks. “Those are rooms only for me. I do not allow even my servants inside.”

Kihyun blinked in surprise. He was ready to ask the boy exactly why he would need rooms even servants were forbidden from entering, when he stopped himself. It was Changkyun’s business. If he wanted rooms only for himself, he could have them. He was a consort of the king, after all.

“Alright,” the First Consort said instead.

Changkyun bit his lower lip as he looked at Kihyun, as though waiting for him to change his mind and criticize. When Kihyun did not, Changkyun hesitated before he ventured, “Would you like to see inside?”

This time Kihyun was stunned. “You—you want me?” he asked. “To see inside your private rooms?”

“Yes,” said Changkyun, shuffling in embarrassment. He quickly added, “Only if you want to.”

“Of course I do,” said Kihyun without hesitation. He took a moment, and then said, “I am just surprised. You hardly know me.”

“I want to,” said Changkyun at once. He stopped, licked his lips. “I mean, I want to know you, Consort Kihyun,” he said. He shifted. “You can refuse, if you wish—”

“No,” interrupted Kihyun, with a force that surprised even himself. “No,” he repeated in a normal tone. “I want to.”

A smile blossomed on Changkyun’s face, a warm, radiant glow that seemed to come from inside him. And Kihyun could feel them all at once now. The twist in his belly, the tug in his chest, all the things Changkyun did to him without ever trying. He could feel them all, and he could not pull away.

“Your attendants will have to remain here, though,” said Changkyun, smile disappearing as a look of uncertainty replaced it. “Only you, Consort.”

Kihyun waved his servants away without a look. He wanted Changkyun to smile again.

And Changkyun did. “Alright then,” he said.

A door had been built into a corner, easy to overlook between a bookcase and a stack of shelves. Changkyun opened it and held it open for Kihyun to enter first before following behind.

They entered into another hallway, with a thin passage leading to their left, and a larger one directly forward, which they walked down. It was closed on both sides and ended abruptly in a wooden wall. Two rooms were lined on one side of the hallway; the other was blank and solid.

“When did you do all this?” asked Kihyun in wonder.

“Not long after I was given this wing,” said Changkyun. “Don’t worry, I made sure nothing was altered permanently, so it can be changed if you would like.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” said Kihyun. “They are yours to do with as you please.”

“Thank you, Consort,” said Changkyun. He walked over to the second door down the hallway and looked back at Kihyun with a sunny grin. “I now welcome you to my private escape,” he said, and opened the door.

It was a rather underwhelming room. It was not any larger than Kihyun’s sleeping chamber, and indeed a roll of bedding was tucked away on one side. Scrolls and books were stacked along a wall, and in one corner was an assortment of metal pieces and parts from some unknown mechanism. A large painting on one wall and a rather threadbare circular woven carpet were the only decorative pieces present.

The most eye-catching part of the room was the window. It was situated on the wall opposite the door and was large, as large as double doors, but built a few hands’ width over the floor. Through it Kihyun could see a garden, filled with herbs and ferns in a vibrant display of green, and a few white wildflowers dotted throughout like stars. A sweet, delicate scent suffused the room, drifting in from outside.

“Where is the entrance to the garden?” asked Kihyun. The garden was open to the sky, but was surrounded by solid wooden walls.

“Through this window,” answered Changkyun.

Kihyun turned around, ready to tell off the Fourth Consort for his poor planning, when he saw that Changkyun had rolled up the carpet and pushed it aside. He moved closer and saw fixed into the floor, barely visible, a trapdoor.

“I’m sorry, did you have that put in?” he asked in disbelief.

“No, I discovered it,” said Changkyun, and his dark eyes were shining in excitement. “I was reading through old record books and it was written that when the third king had the palace built, he wanted secret passageways. I guessed they did go through with it, but it was never recorded. Perhaps for security reasons.”

“I have never heard of that,” admitted Kihyun. “I doubt even the king knows.”

“Well, it was never officially recorded,” said Changkyun. “And I believe all the doors were sealed and painted over in the extensive remodel during Queen Inmi’s reign. I had to carve this one out.” He smiled proudly.

“That is… impressive,” said Kihyun, won over by that beaming face. “I doubt it is of much use, though. All the ways must be closed now.”

“Some of them,” shrugged Changkyun, as he knelt down to open the trapdoor. “A few tunnels are blocked as well. But I have found that if you knock against a door hard enough you can usually break the seal.”

Kihyun narrowed his eyes. “How do you know that, Changkyun?”

Changkyun looked up. “I explored the tunnels, of course.”

“Are you insane?” Kihyun flared up. “Do you know how old those tunnels are? What if they collapsed on you?”

“They haven’t yet,” said Changkyun sheepishly. “They are quite stable too.”

“You just said some of them are blocked!”

“Yes, but they look intentional,” said Changkyun, more confident than before. He leaned back on his haunches. “I have only been down there a few times. I was planning on exploring more of the passages today.”

“It is dangerous,” said Kihyun, but the shine in Changkyun’s eyes was affecting him.

“It is fine,” insisted Changkyun. “I will be going in. Do you want to come with me?”

 _No, I do not want to go with you,_ Kihyun was ready to say. _Those tunnels are old and filled with dust and the decaying corpses of small animals and most likely ready to collapse at any moment. Going with you would make me insane._

But Changkyun was looking up at him, and there was such a glow in his dark eyes, so filled with excitement, and they were fixed on Kihyun, waiting for him to answer, for him to say—

“Of course,” said Kihyun, breathless.

The brightest, most stunning smile spread on Changkyun’s face. “Let’s go,” he said, eyes shining even more than before, which Kihyun had not thought possible. “I will lead the way—”

“No, you will not,” said Kihyun, pushing the Fourth Consort aside to step through the trapdoor. “These tunnels could give at any moment. I will lead.”

“Let me guess,” said Changkyun, amusement obvious in his voice. “You care about the tunnels being damaged as they crush me.”

Kihyun grinned as he crouched down. “Of course.”

Changkyun laughed as he followed the First Consort in.

The tunnel was as filthy and stuffy as Kihyun had expected. It was dark as well, and Kihyun considered going up for a candle before deciding against it. He did not want an exposed flame eating away the already limited air.

“I already went down the passage to the right,” said Changkyun from behind.

“Alright,” said Kihyun, and headed off forwards.

The tunnel got worse the further they went down it. Numerous side-passages attached to it, and Kihyun tried to lead them straight in one direction, although he had to turn more than once when the way ahead was blocked. Changkyun had been right—all the blockages had been constructed, solid walls of wood stretching from the floor to the ceiling of the passage. Kihyun tried to keep track of where he was going, but it was hard to focus. He had to crawl on all-fours, and he was less concerned about the dirt staining his peach silk robes than he was about the fact that he had his behind squarely in Changkyun’s line of vision. Why again did he agree to this?

Changkyun seemed to have no regrets, however. “This is incredible,” he breathed. “Can you imagine how old these are? We are walking in history.”

“Crawling,” corrected Kihyun through gritted teeth. “We are crawling through dirt, dead rats, and all kind of animal shit.” He moved forward and felt something crunch under his hand. He growled. “Fuck.”

Changkyun gasped loudly, and then immediately broke into a hacking cough. Kihyun frantically sought a way to turn around, but there was not enough space. “Changkyun?” he called out worriedly, as the Fourth Consort continued coughing. “Changkyun, are you alright?”

“I am fine,” wheezed Changkyun. He cleared his throat. “You swore. I did not know you did that.”

“Give me a break,” said Kihyun. “I am on my knees in dirt and I think I crushed a rat skull underneath my hand. Consorts can swear when necessary.”

“No, I agree, this is the appropriate time to swear,” said Changkyun. “I just didn’t think _you_ did. Ever.”

The surprise in his voice made Kihyun grin, but he did not answer.

It was still dark in the tunnels, but Kihyun’s eyes had adjusted well enough, and light leaked in from the floor paneling above. The air was warm but not difficult to breathe. Kihyun suspected a clever ventilation system had been put in place, one that had withstood the years. He was incredibly grateful. He did not want to suffocate in these filthy, cramped tunnels. The tight fit and dry, still air were enough to drive a man to insanity. Kihyun most likely would have panicked already, if it were not for Changkyun. The younger man’s excitement was like a palpable force, pushing away any choking, invasive thoughts. His deep voice soothed Kihyun’s nerves.

They had walked a few hands further when Changkyun said, “Consort, I see another trapdoor. I think we should try this one.”

Kihyun could not agree sooner. He found the trapdoor above his head, and gave it a push. It was stuck fast.

He motioned behind him, and felt Changkyun come up beside him as best he could. Together they pushed against the wood caked in dust and spider webs, until slowly Kihyun could feel the door start to give.

The door jolted open unexpectedly, and Kihyun and Changkyun knocked heads. “That hurt,” whined Changkyun, but Kihyun hardly registered the pain. Freedom. Fresh air.

He climbed out of the tunnel first, and while Changkyun followed Kihyun looked around the room they had trespassed into.

It was small but exquisitely furnished. A low lacquered mahogany table stood in the center of the room, completely bare. Along the walls were a number of shelves and tables, all stacked with neatly-bound scrolls.

“This is Hyungwon’s room,” said Kihyun, brushing dust off his sleeves. “He writes his literature in here.”

“I have a secret passageway to Consort Hyungwon’s rooms?” Changkyun sounded awed. “Incredible.”

Kihyun turned to look at him, and frowned. The boy was a mess. His mint green robes were covered in dirt, especially around his knees, shoulders, and the ends of the sleeves. His hands were filthy, and his face was a mass of black and brown.

With a tut, Kihyun pulled his handkerchief out of his sleeve and walked over to Changkyun. “How did you manage to do this?” he asked, rubbing at his dirt-streaked face. “Did you fall over?”

“I felt an itch on my nose,” murmured Changkyun.

“Fool,” sighed Kihyun, but not unkindly. When he had gotten off as much as he could from Changkyun’s face, he moved on to his hands. His hands were in a terrible state, almost completely coated in brown-black dirt that thankfully felt dry. Kihyun had to work on them one at a time, holding Changkyun’s hand in one of his as he worked on getting the stuff off. He muttered under his breath, complaining about the damned tunnels and how going in them had been a terrible idea, when he noticed Changkyun had not spoken in awhile.

Kihyun, hands still holding Changkyun’s, stopped. He slowly lifted his eyes.

Changkyun was looking at him. Not staring, not gaping, just _looking_. He was looking at Kihyun like he was the most beautiful person in the world. His dark eyes were glowing now, shining and sparkling in warmth and wonder, and they fixed onto Kihyun, they swallowed him up, kept him frozen in place, unable to turn away. The intensity in his gaze sent a whisper down Kihyun’s body. He bit his lower lip, and he watched as Changkyun’s eyes flicked down to catch the action.

The brief break in eye-contact was enough to jolt Kihyun back to his senses. He quickly backed away, busying himself with his overcoat to hide how flustered he had been, and his embarrassment at being so flustered. “I’m sure you can take care of the rest by yourself,” he said, holding out the handkerchief.

Changkyun took it with a soft thanks and a nod. Kihyun stood where he was, taking a moment to compose himself as he fixed his eyes onto a wall. What was wrong with him? Why was he still so rattled? It was the tunnels, he told himself. They had set his nerves on edge and he was feeling the effect now that he was out of them.

“Thank you,” said Changkyun, his deep voice soft and low. “For—for joining me. I have not had many opportunities to enjoy your company so I am thankful.”

Kihyun finally looked up at the boy, saw him staring intently at the handkerchief in his stained hands. “Of course,” he said, before he could even think of saying anything else. He paused, took a moment to frame his thoughts. “I enjoyed your company as well,” said Kihyun. “If ever you wish to spend time with me, you are welcome.”

And then Changkyun looked up, and smiled. It lit up his face, made him look younger, more innocent. Lovelier. More beautiful.

“Thank you, Consort,” said Changkyun, and Kihyun could not help but smile as well.

 

The next time the consorts gathered for dinner, Kihyun called for Changkyun to sit beside him. The Fourth Consort looked slightly flustered, but Kihyun smiled at him, trying to put him at ease. Changkyun stared at that smile, eyes widening, and then his features softened. He smiled back, and settled down to eat. Kihyun watched him a moment longer, and then turned his gaze away, a hint of a smile still on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finals! Next chapter will not be out this month, sorry ^^;;  
> In other (better) news. Monsta X in traditional clothing for Chuseok. _Kihyun_ in traditional clothing for Chuseok. Send help


	5. First Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Finally," said Consort Seokjin, his eyes like moonlit pools sparkling. "Someone interesting."
> 
>  _White Carnation: A Dramatic Retelling of Events Occurring After King Hoseok's First Marriage_  
>  Ahrin of Hansan-do

The crown prince of Eigak rode into the royal compound atop a white gelding. He was attired in orange and black, the colors of the Eigak royal family, and a black wide-brimmed hat shielded his face from the sun. Close by his side but a pace behind rode a young woman, dressed in black and features stern, with a sword belted at her hip. Behind them followed a short train of bulky ornate carriages and mounted servants.

Kihyun stood one step behind his king, hands folded into his sleeves. Like the other consorts he was dressed formally, in heavy robes of purple with silver brocade edging, and an intricate silver headpiece in his hair. Spring was slowly fading into summer, and he could feel sweat gather under the heavy collar. He kept his face relaxed and welcoming.

The prince dismounted, his companion following. Servants rushed forward to take the horses’ reins, and Kihyun registered a faint surprise at seeing the prince not only acknowledge them, but thank them with a polite smile and a nod. The prince approached the king and his waiting retinue, untying his hat as he walked.

“Welcome, Crown Prince, to Yishin,” said the king. As host it was customary for him to greet first. “You are become my honored guest, and my home and heart are at your feet.” He bowed, just a slight tilt of the upper body, and his consorts followed suit, bowing more deeply.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, most welcoming host,” said Prince Jooheon. “I accept your hospitality into my heart, and return your greetings with deepest respect.” He bowed in turn, as did his female companion and all his servants.

Formal greeting over, Kihyun took a quick moment to look over the man. Jooheon was young, looking barely into his third decade, and his face was small but rounded. Suntanned skin told Kihyun that the man had ridden on horseback for at least a week of his journey, if not all of it. His eyes were dark, sharp, but relaxed, and his lips curved upwards into a polite smile.

The most extraordinary thing about the crown prince of Eigak was how ordinary he was, or tried to be. He had ridden in on a horse, not in a carriage, and the horse itself was no large, imposing stallion. His clothes were plain, well-worn. He was not wearing a single piece of jewelry.

The guests were led away to a chamber by the main hall for refreshments, where the party was served wine and light food. Hoseok let the prince take a seat first, and then sat in the chair to his right. His consorts sat afterwards, Kihyun taking the place beside Changkyun on the long divan. The commandant remained standing, as did the woman with the sword.

“Your countryside is beautiful,” said Jooheon, settling down into his chair. “I’m very glad I could finally come see Yishin. I’ve been looking forward to this visit for some time.”

“That is wonderful to hear,” said Hoseok. “Your Highness is free to visit anytime.”

“I hope you will one day visit Eigak,” continued the prince. “We would love to have you and anyone you wish to bring with you to our court. And also,” Jooheon looked at Hoseok and smiled, “please call me Jooheon.”

The smile completely changed the prince’s face. Those sharp eyes curved into crescents, hiding from view. His face looked even younger, softer, and deep dimples appeared in his cheeks, deeper even than Changkyun’s. But not more charming, Kihyun decided.

The sudden change took Hoseok off-guard. “I—I’m sorry?”

“You’re older, you should call me by name,” Jooheon insisted. “Nothing too strange about that, is there?”

“I—I suppose not,” said Hoseok, still yet to get over his surprise. “We hardly know each other, Your Highness.”

“We will hopefully have enough time for that,” said Jooheon lightly. “And, please, my name. Consider it your favor to me as a host.” His lips puckered out a bit at that, the action looking subconscious.

Hoseok blinked a few times, processing, and then he broke out into a wide grin. “I am already doing you plenty of favors, Prince,” he said, voice light, teasing. “I am giving you the company of my youngest consort; what greater favor is there than that?”

Kihyun was taken by surprise. The king looked… relaxed. He was sitting by the crown prince of his country’s only rival, a nation that had warred with theirs throughout history, and he looked at ease. Something in the prince’s words or demeanor had convinced Hoseok. Kihyun knew his king tended to follow his instincts, and that they usually led him true, but surely it was too soon to make such a decision?

“I am honored, King, deeply,” said Jooheon, still smiling. His gaze moved over the consorts briefly. “Your consorts are very handsome. They’re making me feel rather inferior, in fact.”

Hoseok laughed, and of course Kihyun smiled, because he enjoyed listening to Hoseok laugh and because it was the appropriate thing to do. He glanced over at Changkyun and found the Fourth Consort sitting still, a slightly nervous air around him.

“You flatter us too much, Your Highness,” said Minhyuk with a smile that looked genuine to Kihyun. “Who would you guess your company will be?” he asked, voice light, teasing.

“Forgive me, Consort, but I already know,” said Jooheon with a smile of his own. “The Fourth is the youngest, is he not?” He turned to Changkyun and said, “I know of you, Consort. I was entertained at your parents’ home right after I entered Yishin, in fact.”

Changkyun stiffened. It was a small motion, but Kihyun could feel the aura around him change, grow heavy with his discomfort. “I hope you enjoyed your stay,” he said.

“I did,” said Jooheon, smiling gently. He did not seem to notice Changkyun’s reaction.

It was then a servant entered the room, and gave the signal the prince's quarters were ready. Hoseok stood first, smiling magnanimously. “Your Highness, I will let you take your much-needed rest,” he said.

“Now you are doing it on purpose,” said Jooheon. Hoseok grinned.

The king and his consorts followed the guests to the doorway, as was custom. As they did, Kihyun fell in beside Changkyun. “Are you alright?” he asked under his breath.

The younger consort turned and gave a faint smile. “Yes, Consort,” he answered.

Kihyun was not totally convinced, but asked no further.

The relationship between him and the Fourth Consort had improved. Kihyun had accepted Changkyun’s entrance into the household, and even become familiar with some of his peculiarities. He could still feel that flutter sometimes, the one that ran under his skin and against his bones, but he was becoming familiar with that as well.

“You will be alright with him?” asked Kihyun, motioning ahead, to where Prince Jooheon walked alongside King Hoseok.

“I will,” said Changkyun, and the smile was better now, with more soul behind it. “You wouldn't be worried about me, would you, First Consort?”

“Of course not,” answered Kihyun smoothly. “The prince of Eigak is an important guest. I would hate for you to offend him with your strangeness.”

Changkyun grinned, bone-deep fluttering.

The train reached the doors opening to the wing reserved for the Eigakese prince, and stopped. Hoseok made polite, formal parting remarks, and Jooheon returned them. Kihyun barely listened, putting on an attentive mask. It was not right, he knew, but his thoughts stayed with Changkyun, how uncomfortable he had been when the prince had spoken to him. Would the Fourth Consort truly be alright?

Kihyun’s honed sense warned him at the right moment, and he bowed in time with the other consorts. The king bowed slightly, as did Prince Jooheon. And then the prince of Eigak and his guard disappeared through the doors.

“I like him,” said Minhyuk.

“I do as well,” said Hoseok. He held out his hand, and Hyungwon pushed through from the back of the train to take it. “I think his visit will be a very interesting one,” he said. He looked at his newest consort. “Changkyun? I hope you are up to the task.”

“Worry not, Your Majesty,” said Changkyun, his handsome face once again in that grim, serious expression. “I will not disappoint.”

The king nodded, satisfied, and then set off for his rooms, Minhyuk attaching himself to his other arm. Kihyun prepared to follow when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

“I mean it, Consort Kihyun,” said Changkyun quietly. “I will be fine. I will do well. You don't have to worry about me.”

Kihyun looked at the young man, at his sincere and calm face, and felt the worry in his belly ease. He nodded.

Changkyun smiled, lips curling upwards. He took Kihyun’s hand and pulled him along to rejoin the rest of the group. Kihyun let him, hand loose in the other's. He did not pull it away even when they reached them.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

Changkyun was sweating.

Spring was leaving Yishin, the land shedding her flowered robe for the tangerine garb of Summer. The sun shone brightly even this early in the morning, and the shade of the parasol was a blessing. Changkyun fanned himself with a peacock feather fan, wishing he had tied up his hair at the back. Kihyun had the right idea with his bun. To the deuce with fashion; Changkyun needed air circulation.

He shifted uncomfortably. The periwinkle blue brocade robe he wore was much too heavy for the weather, but Minhyuk had insisted. “You must be dressed formally when you entertain guests,” the Second Consort had said. “And blue suits you so much!” He had even done Changkyun’s paint and powder by his own hand.

Changkyun might have hoped for a compliment from the First Consort. Instead Kihyun had tutted and said, “He looks hot.”

And he was right. Changkyun could feel Minhyuk’s hard work melting right off his face.

He spotted the prince of Eigak approaching, trailed as ever by his guard. The prince had not required entertainment over the past few days, resting from his journey and getting his belongings in order, but Changkyun had spotted him more than once. His protector was ever-present.

“Consort,” Jooheon called cheerily as he neared. “I’ll admit I'm surprised to find you alone. I expected an army of servants.” He was dressed casually, in light belted robes of teal and forest green. He looked relaxed and comfortable. Sweating under his formal clothes, Changkyun envied him.

“Your Highness,” he said with a bow. “Good morning. I should inform you I prefer walking without servants.”

Jooheon beamed. “Great,” he said. “I do as well.” He motioned to the armed young woman beside him. “This is Sojung,” he said. “She is here to make sure I do not accidentally impale myself on something.”

“Or knock your head, or get cut by a particularly sharp leaf,” added the young woman. “No guarantees against tripping over your own feet though.”

Jooheon laughed. Changkyun was too surprised to. He had expected the prince's guard to be like Hyunwoo, stiff and quiet, at least around other people. Sojung was smiling and making jokes. With her large eyes and charming smile, she was quite pretty. Changkyun wondered if Jooheon had realized that. He wondered if Kihyun had.

“So,” said Jooheon, with a sharp clap of his hands, “what do you have planned for us today?”

“I?” Changkyun was caught off-guard. “Your Highness is the one who wanted to meet this morning.” Changkyun had not been very happy. He had been looking forward to brunch with Kihyun and the others.

“Because I assumed you had much to show me,” said Jooheon. “It is your home, after all. Lead the way.”

Changkyun was about to say that he had not lived in the royal compound long, when he stopped. It  _was_ his home. He could do this. He would not disappoint.

“Today we can start with a tour of the largest gardens,” he said with a smile. “The compound has almost too many to count.”

Jooheon smiled. “Sounds good.”

As they walked, they made conversation. Changkyun did not have to worry on that aspect. Jooheon was friendly and personable, and kept the conversation going easily, with Sojung occasionally adding her thoughts. The topic moved to Jooheon’s home as they reached the Scarlet Garden.

“It is all one building, made of stone,” he said. “The compound is walled only in the front; at the back it opens to our lands and forest. Not so big as yours, but warmer, more welcoming.”

“Stone? Is it not hot inside?” asked Changkyun.

“No room is without a large window,” said Jooheon, bending to inspect a flower whose name Changkyun did not know. “Your wood walls are charming but I must say, they do strike a bit of fear in me.”

“Fear?” Changkyun blinked in surprise.

“Ignore the prince, everything strikes fear in him,” said Sojung with a snort.

Jooheon shot her a look, and then said to Changkyun, “I was thinking of what would happen if the building caught fire. All the walls would burn.”

“I think that is safer, actually,” said Changkyun, after a moment’s thought. “The walls would become weaker, easier to break through. Stone would cook you like a chicken in an oven.”

Jooheon opened his mouth to refute it, then closed it, and then opened and closed it again. “Oh no,” he finally whispered.

“Thank you, Consort,” said Sojung. “Now His Highness will refuse to sleep in his own palace.”

Changkyun flashed a smile. “Glad I could help.”

The bodyguard blinked in surprise a few moments, and then burst out laughing. Changkyun soon joined.

“Fine, take pleasure in my misery,” grumbled Jooheon. “I just think it is prudent to consider what we should do in an emergency.”

“You don’t make any emergency plans, you just panic,” teased Sojung.

“Why should I not panic, when my so-called trusted bodyguard is more interested in mocking than protecting me?”

“Protecting you from what, o dear prince? That flower you’re sniffing? Yes, how very dangerous and life-threatening!”

Changkyun watched them bicker playfully with each other, and felt a smile creep onto his face. He liked them. He did not get close to people easily, and most of the time he did not care to, but gods he did wish to be to close to them. He wanted to be friends.

“Consort,” Jooheon called out suddenly, “do you have any idea what you would do in an emergency?”

“What kind of emergency?” Changkyun asked calmly.

“A fire, or a horde of assassins infiltrating the building,” said Jooheon, serious. “Something large-scale.”

In a vague sense, Changkyun did know what he would do. He would find those he cared about the most—Kihyun, the king, Hyungwon and Minhyuk, Hyunwoo—and then they would leave the compound together.

“Escape,” said Changkyun simply.

Jooheon laughed. “A great idea,” he said. He touched a nearby flower, fingers lightly brushing the petals. “Do you know what this flower is?” he asked. “We do not have them in Eigak.”

“A rose,” said Changkyun. Minhyuk had told him, and afterwards the Fourth Consort had looked for more information about them in the library. “The king had cuttings brought from Seirk. They do not grow naturally in Yishin either. A lot of care is put into keeping them healthy.”

“It’s beautiful,” said Jooheon, looking at it in wonder. “Care is worth it, I think, when the result is something that lifts the heart.”

“I agree,” murmured Changkyun. He wondered if Kihyun liked roses.

“I would like to know more about these flowers,” said Jooheon, circling the rosebush and walking towards a magnolia tree. “Could you tell me?”

“I do not know much, truthfully,” said Changkyun. “After touring the gardens I could show you the library.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them. Why would Jooheon want to see the library? The prince probably had no interest in reading, being as outgoing and active as he was. Why did Changkyun have no interesting hobbies? He had probably put off the prince from ever truly being his friend.

“Library? A big one?” Jooheon’s eyes shone.

“Rather big,” said Changkyun, taken aback by the prince’s reaction. He quickly added, “I do not know how it would compare to yours in Eigak, though.”

“It would have different books, for one,” said the prince. “After you have shown me the gardens you must take me to explore it.”

Changkyun smiled. “I would love to, Your Highness.”

“But on one condition,” said Jooheon, grinning. “Next time you wear something lighter. Can’t have you melting before you can show me around.”

That was a condition Changkyun could accept.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

“Where is Changkyun?”

“With the prince,” said Hyungwon, momentarily looking up from his book.

Kihyun frowned. “Again?”

It had been a few days since the Fourth Consort had begun his duty of entertaining the Eigakese prince, and since that time it felt as though he spent every waking moment doing so. He took his meals with the prince, showed him around the royal compound and the libraries. It made Kihyun uneasy. It was early afternoon and they were scattered around one of the king’s rooms, the king and three of his consorts. This was far from the first time they had gathered without the Fourth Consort since their guest's arrival. Did Changkyun really have to spend so much time with the prince?

“It is his duty, Kihyun,” said Hyungwon. “I know you're missing him, but you must understand.”

“Missing him?” Kihyun scoffed. “I think not.”

“Ah, our dearest First misses his new best friend,” teased Minhyuk from where he was wrapped around the king in the large armchair. “Do not worry, Changkyun will not replace you. At least for no longer than six moons.”

“I am not worried about being replaced,” snapped Kihyun.

“Could have fooled me,” said Minhyuk breezily. Hoseok chuckled.

Kihyun shot the Second Consort a sour look, and then said, “I only asked because I am going to pay a visit to a court member, and I was hoping he might accompany me.”

At this, Hoseok straightened. “Which member?” he asked. “The new one?”

“Lord Han’s son, yes,” said Kihyun. “I told you of his invitation.”

“Everyone wants to forge relationships with you,” said Hoseok with a chuckle. “Sometimes I forget I am the king.”

“You are supposed to be impartial to all members of the court, Your Majesty,” reminded Kihyun. “They should not be forging relationships with you.”

“I know, and I am ever grateful,” said the king, smiling. “Politics is tiring.”

It was, but it was the only way to get things done. Which was why Kihyun rose, bowed to his king and said, “Excuse me, Your Majesty. I must get ready now.”

“Wait, Kihyun,” said Hoseok. “You will go alone?”

“With my attendants,” said Kihyun. Hyungwon was uninvolved in political visits and Minhyuk was very obviously not in the mood, judging by the way he clung to the king.

Hoseok paused a moment, and then said, “I would be glad if you would take Hyunwoo with you.”

Kihyun was surprised. The commandant was the king's personal protector, and never left his side. “Why?” he asked. “I am not going anywhere dangerous.”

“I know, but neither am I,” said the king. He extricated himself from Minhyuk, earning himself a petulant whine and a smack on the arm, and stood up. “Minhyuk and I will be walking in the gardens now,” he said. “No danger there at all. Moreover it has been awhile since Hyunwoo’s last formal call. He can go and eat some fancy food.” He smiled.

“Your Majesty,” the commandant started, but Hoseok waved it off.

“I think I am safe enough in my own compound,” he said. “I want to let it be known that I do not need a bodyguard here.”

 _Ah, so this is for the sake of the Eigakese prince then._ Eigak had had conspiracies against the royal family in the past, and Hoseok wanted to show just how stable and secure he was as king of Yishin. Not a bad idea, and it cost the king nothing more than a few hours without his personal guard.

“As you wish,” said the commandant with a deep bow. Kihyun bowed as well, and Hoseok nodded once more.

Less than two hours later Kihyun met the commandant in front of the main hall, and they entered the ebony carriage. As usual Kihyun’s servants rode in a separate carriage, meaning he was alone with the commandant in his.

The carriage set off in silence. The commandant had always been a quiet man, and Kihyun did not initiate conversation. Most times Kihyun did not mind the silence, but now he was thinking of Changkyun. He was thinking of how Changkyun had become close to the commandant in such a short time. Kihyun had known the man for years and was nowhere near as close, imagining a cool, formal relationship was for the best. He was no longer sure about that.

Before he could stop himself, Kihyun said, “Have you been well?”

The commandant blinked a few times in response before saying, “Yes.” He hesitated, and then added, “And you, Consort?”

“I have as well,” said Kihyun. A short silence, and then he tried again. “Nothing new in your life?”

“We live together, Consort,” said the commandant, still looking faintly surprised. “You would know of any new events in my life.”

“Yes, but we hardly talk,” said Kihyun, not giving up.

Now the other looked even more surprised. “You want to talk? To me?”

Kihyun had to smile at his reaction. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I do. I know we haven’t spoken much, but I would like to change that. So please, say whatever you would like to.”

“I don’t say much,” said the commandant. “By my own choice.” He thought a moment, looking almost guilty for being naturally quiet, and then said, “You could ask me anything you wish, Consort. I will try to answer.”

His earnestness was endearing. Kihyun did not have to think long for a question, the one that had been circling in the front of his brain spilling out. “What do you make of the Eigakese prince?”

“Prince Jooheon?” The commandant—Hyunwoo, Kihyun reminded himself—paused, thinking it over, and then said, “He seems a nice young man.”

“He won over Changkyun quite easily,” said Kihyun, and he did not know why he said it, or why he sounded so bitter when he did.

“He is friendly, and seems genuine,” said Hyunwoo. “His Majesty likes him as well. I trust my king’s judgment, so I trust the prince. My worry is that the prince will grow into an ineffective leader.”

“That does not sound too worrisome,” said Kihyun. Eigak was Yishin’s only rival—an ineffective leader would be a boon.

“I disagree,” said Hyunwoo, a little frown on his face. “If His Highness really is genuine, then he wants friendship with Yishin. That seems like a good thing to me.” He shrugged. “Better than this cold war we have now.”

It was an insightful observation. Kihyun had been thinking of Eigak only as a rival. If Prince Jooheon was sincere on mending relations, Eigak could become an ally.

“Thank you for your thoughts,” said Kihyun. “I had not considered the situation that way.”

A small smile spread on Hyunwoo’s face. “You are welcome, Consort,” he said.

“I hope you will feel free to speak to me whenever you wish,” said Kihyun, and he was genuine.

The smile on Hyunwoo’s face grew, and it ate up his features, made him look sweet and innocent. “Thank you, Consort,” he said, and he looked to be genuine too.

Picking up the slight dip in the conversation, Kihyun said, “You and Changkyun seem to get along well.”

“He is a nice boy,” said Hyunwoo, and his voice was warm. Adoring, like a man speaking of his younger brother. “A little awkward at first, but good. Kind.”

Kihyun felt a surge of pride, which was ridiculous since Changkyun’s merits had nothing to do with him. “The king chose well,” he said.

“He did,” agreed Hyunwoo. “The Fourth Consort is lovely.”

“And the others?” Kihyun raised an eyebrow.

Hyunwoo paused, and then said, “Consort Hyungwon is wonderful as well.”

Kihyun burst out laughing. It was so unexpected, he could not help himself. “Oh, I will have to tell Minhyuk about that,” he said.

“Please don’t, I value my life,” said Hyunwoo, grinning.

The First Consort was still chuckling as the carriage slowed to a stop. The door opened, letting in the bright sunlight of the summer day, and the commandant exited the carriage before Kihyun.

The compound they were in was large, well-maintained, expensive. A coterie of servants led Kihyun and his own party to the largest building visible, through a pathway flanked by water gardens and into a room decorated in silver and blue, where was seated their host.

Han Jehan. Kihyun mentally went through the information he had on the man, gathered from Minhyuk’s sources as well as his own. His father had been a minister of the first circle of court, and loyal to Yeon Hu. He was the younger of two sons, and had led a surprisingly quiet life for a young noble. Most noble youths not in a position to inherit their parents’ titles tended to live extravagantly, attending the numerous parties held in Yishin’s rich upper circle. Not Han Jehan. He had focused on his studies, primarily on commerce and border trade if the talk was true. A young man aware that, unable to inherit wealth and title, he could still inherit a court position, and had prepared. That could be a great advantage for Kihyun, or the exact opposite.

“Consort, it is an honor to finally meet,” said Han Jehan as he rose. He bowed deeply, and then looked at Hyunwoo. “And you, sir,” he said. “Allow me to express my gratitude for your faithful and diligent service in protecting our king.”

Hyunwoo bowed his head briefly. “You honor me, Minister.”

“No, sir, you honor me with your presence.” If Han Jehan was insincere, he did well at hiding it. He motioned for them to sit, and only when they were seated did he do the same. Servants came in, carrying trays loaded with tea and dainties.

While the tea was served, Kihyun took the opportunity to observe his host. Han Jehan was young, skin unblemished, his dark hair pulled back much like Kihyun’s, in the top knot sported by court officials. He was handsome as well, with sharp, striking features, and the midnight blue robes he wore suited his fair skin well.

“Thank you for taking the time to accept my invitation,” said Han Jehan. “I am honored.”

 _Why? I'm sure both Jo Senmi and the general accepted as well._ Kihyun knew better than to think Han Jehan would reach out only to him. The man was too clever for that. He put on his polite, pleasant smile and said, “Of course, Minister. I am pleased to meet you.”

“Actually, Consort, this is not our first meeting,” said Han Jehan, with the same smile. “We have spoken before, at a social gathering. Of course, this was before you became consort, so I would not be surprised if you do not remember me.” He chuckled. “I was not very memorable.”

“I must admit I do not remember our meeting,” said Kihyun. “That was many years ago, and I hardly recall much from then. Please forgive me.”

“Please do not apologize, I am not offended in the least,” said Han Jehan. “I am quite glad for the meeting, though. I had thought you were the Second Consort before I recognized you.”

“You flatter me,” said Kihyun. “Consort Minhyuk might be insulted.”

“I meant it as no insult to Consort Minhyuk,” said Han Jehan, and gods he was good at looking sincere. “I had simply heard of the Second Consort’s great beauty and assumed…” He had large hands, and he gestured when he spoke. Changkyun kept his still and folded, and Kihyun wondered why he had suddenly thought of that.

He put it out of his mind, and laughed. “Yes, thank you, very flattering,” he said. He thought of asking directly if Han Jehan had met with the prime minister yet, but decided against it. The man wanted to play this story, so Kihyun would oblige.

They continued with the empty small talk. Han Jehan was an eloquent man, and Kihyun found himself impressed by how easily and smoothly he spoke. If he could do the same during negotiations, he would be quite an asset.

“I am sorry, but I must say I am quite surprised to find you in the company of the commandant,” said Han Jehan. “I hope you did not think my household dangerous?” His lips quirked into a smile.

“Of course not, Minister,” said Kihyun. “I brought him along not as a protector, but a friend.”

“I was not aware you had such a close relationship,” said the minister. “That is warming to hear.”

Kihyun would have continued the conversation, but he was now aware of Hyunwoo’s discomfort. The commandant was not enjoying the call. He was not shifting in his seat, or frowning or anything so obvious, but Kihyun could tell nonetheless. Hyunwoo wanted to leave.

“Yes, we are quite close,” said Kihyun. “I hope you can excuse us, Minister, but it is past time we should be returning to the royal compound.” He made to stand up.

“Ah, how regretful,” said Han Jehan, rising with his guests. “I quite enjoyed your company.”

“And I yours,” said Kihyun politely. “I look forward to your contributions in court.”

“I shall endeavor not to disappoint,” said the minister. His words reminded Kihyun of Changkyun. Changkyun spoke less prettily, but his words seemed more memorable to Kihyun. More special.

As Han Jehan showed Kihyun and Hyunwoo back to their carriage, he smiled and said, “I hope you would not think it untoward if I were to extend another invitation to my home, Consort.”

“Not at all,” said Kihyun, returning the smile as proper. “I shall visit again when I can.”

By now the carriage door had been opened, and the steps laid out. To Kihyun’s surprise, Han Jehan offered his hand. Kihyun took it of course, as it would be rude not to, and climbed into the carriage. Hyunwoo followed after. Han Jehan bowed low once, and then the carriage door was closed.

After a few minutes of silent travel, Kihyun prompted, “Any thoughts, commandant?”

Hyunwoo hesitated. “May I be frank?”

“Of course.”

“I don't like him,” said Hyunwoo flatly.

Kihyun himself was undecided on that matter, and he asked, “Why?”

“He seemed overly friendly,” said Hyunwoo. “He flattered you as though he was trying to win your hand for marriage. He sounded disappointed you had not come alone. And there was no reason for him to take your hand.” He bristled. “You are a royal consort. Your heart and body are the king's.”

“Yes, Hyunwoo, I remember quite well,” said Kihyun. “Pay no mind to the flattery; he would have done the same no matter which of us he met. I am certain Han Jehan has no real interest in me.”

“He had better not,” said the commandant. His hand strayed to the hilt of his sword.

Kihyun laughed. “No need for that,” he said. “Even if he does desire me, I am devoted to Hoseok. Nothing is more important to me than my duty.”

“I know,” said Hyunwoo seriously. “Which is why I will not hesitate to cut that man in half if he tries anything.”

That made Kihyun laugh again, and he settled back against the cushions, smiling. On the way home he thought of Changkyun, if he would have enjoyed the visit. Kihyun imagined his reaction to Han Jehan’s transparent comment on Kihyun being mistaken for Minhyuk, and smiled fondly, unable to stop himself.

Changkyun, Kihyun thought, would not like Han Jehan. Perhaps as much as Kihyun did not like this Eigakese prince who was stealing so much of Changkyun’s time. That, Kihyun would admit only in his own mind, made him quite pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked on this chapter for so long and it's still so lackluster  
> As always, feedback always appreciated


	6. Conversations in Candlelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is one thought that crosses every person's mind, regardless of age, gender, or class. That one thought is purpose. What is my purpose on this Earth? What is the purpose of my life? Was I born as part of a great cosmic scheme, or did I stem from a number of coincidences, all stacked together to create this one life?  
>  Some of us strive for wealth and power, believing the answer lies there. Others retreat into solitude, meditating in their minds or seeking the answers in books. We search out ascetics, hermits, wise men and old men, thinking the answer comes with age, or spirituality. That if we find that one man who knows, we can finally learn the answer to the universal question.  
>  Let this one man give his own. I have found that the answer is the one we write for ourselves.
> 
>  _Musings on Philosophy_  
>  Kim Namjoon, Prime Minister to King Hoseok, 17th King of Yishin

“The court will vote on the decision to allow those of common blood to hold posts in the civil service.”

Standing by the king’s throne, Kihyun’s eyes scanned the room. The more experienced courtiers kept their faces neutral, but Kihyun noticed some apprehensive looks among the younger members. The decision was not popular, he knew. The civil service had been the bastion of the nobles, a backup in the case of misfortune in family business or lands. Hoseok had already eliminated so many paths to greater riches. This was the first step in removing another. Kihyun feared the move would alienate members of the court, but it was too late. Hoseok had taken it out of their hands with his vote.

“I vote in favor,” said the king, and the scribe diligently noted it down.

“And the court?” called out the speaker.

Some voted in favor, raising fans of blue. A few raised red fans, signalling opposition. Kihyun made careful note of those voting against. It took a certain amount of courage to vote against the king, and Kihyun could respect that. Song Hijun raised red, proving that while he might be an ignorant, annoying bastard, he was no coward. Most members of the court abstained from voting, Han Jehan among them.

“The court agrees on the decision,” announced the speaker.

“I will allow the education ministry to sort out the details,” said Hoseok, with a nod towards Min Shiyin. “This will prove to be a positive change for our country,” he said, and smiled.

Kihyun smiled, because his king did, and then his gaze flicked to Changkyun. The youngest consort was almost hidden in Minhyuk’s shadow, but Kihyun could see how he kept his handsome face serious and neutral. He looked beautiful. His ensemble for the day was a robe of dark purple, sleeves and edges patterned in silver spirals, and a belt of white with a small crystal of amethyst hanging off the end. The effect was spellbinding, as though he had walked out from a land of fantasy and magic.

Changkyun’s eyes shifted to Kihyun’s, holding his gaze for a few moments before the First Consort looked away. Kihyun had been staring. Again.

“Would Your Majesty like this enforced at once?” asked the education minister. “As some posts have gone unfilled, we are preparing to hold another examination in three moons.”

“Yes, Minister, at once,” said Hoseok. “Make sure to send out notices to the district offices as well. I want as many people to know of this as soon as possible.”

“I fear turnout will be low, Your Majesty,” said Yook Haebin, a minister of the second circle. “Most of the peasantry are illiterate.”

Kihyun spoke up. “I think an education program would be a good idea,” he said. “The government could set up free schools, first in the capital, and then in other towns and villages.”

“And who would these schools be run by?” asked Min Shiyin. “Already there are a shortage of government officials. An undertaking of a countrywide scale would require scores of teachers.”

“Most high-ranking officials would not appreciate the posting either,” said Ko Yerim. “Being sent to the countryside to teach letters to peasants? They would think it beneath them.” Her eyes briefly darted to Song Hijun in distaste.

“We could leave the matter to the local government,” suggested a third-circle courtier. “Allow the district magistrates to handle it.”

“I do not think the district magistrates would be so committed,” said Kihyun. “The crown should lead.”

Hoseok mused on this for awhile. “I agree with Kihyun’s suggestion of us heading the education program,” he finally said. “But at this moment the establishment of so many schools is unfeasible. We will review further options at a later court meeting.”

The court moved on to other matters. Meetings were held regularly every half moon's turn, but the last had been canceled due to the arrival of Prince Jooheon. Many issues were raised, most exceedingly dull. Kihyun glanced at Changkyun every few minutes, checking that the Fourth Consort was not too bored. Changkyun schooled his face well, maintaining a serious, flat expression. Kihyun felt oddly proud.

 _He probably wishes he was with the Eigakese prince,_ thought Kihyun. Changkyun had gotten quite friendly with Prince Jooheon. Kihyun occasionally spied him laughing and joking with the prince, something it had taken him weeks to do with his fellow consorts. He was not bitter— _of course not_ —but he did feel uneasy about it. If the prince truly did consider Yishin an enemy, then Changkyun would see it as a betrayal, and he would be hurt. That was something Kihyun could not allow.

Eventually, as Kihyun had expected, the court discussion moved to the Eigakese prince.

“Many are not pleased with Crown Prince Jooheon’s lengthy stay in the royal compound,” said a courtier of the third circle. “They view his visit with suspicion.”

“Everyone does,” said Minhyuk, but in a low enough voice for only the consorts to hear.

“Yes, because many view Eigak as our enemy,” said the king. “I do not, and I believe neither does the Crown Prince. If this visit does have hidden purposes, I think they will be to Yishin's benefit.”

His confident tone ended the matter for most, but Kang Seyoung of the first circle still tried, “Perhaps if the visit were shortened…”

Hoseok laughed. “He is my guest, Minister,” he said. “How can I chase him out of my household? No, Prince Jooheon will stay as long as he desires. I suggest we all make peace with that fact.” He looked over his assembled courtiers. “Anything else?”

When no one else raised a point, Hoseok nodded at the speaker, who announced in a loud, clear voice, “This session comes to a close. The king leaves his hall.”

The courtiers all rose as Hoseok stood, and bowed as he walked past them, down the carpeted path from the dais to the doors. Kihyun and the other consorts trailed in his wake, Hyunwoo taking up the rear.

Once out into the bright sun, servants quickly gathered with fans and parasols. Hoseok was smiling as they walked across the courtyard, obviously pleased with the meeting's outcome.

“They’re right, you know,” said Minhyuk, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear with a delicate hand. “You will not get many common-blood applicants, at least not this time around.”

“I know,” said Hoseok. “But we have to start somewhere. And I think this sends a clear message. The government cares about the common people, and wants them to succeed.”

“They don't, though,” said Hyungwon.

Hoseok frowned at that, and then lunged at Hyungwon, holding the Third Consort in a firm embrace. “I care,” he said. “And I am the government, am I not?”

“No, you're the king, there's a difference,” said Hyungwon, struggling uselessly. “Now let go of me, you brainless muscled oaf.”

“Never,” said Hoseok with a wicked grin, and then proceeded to attack Hyungwon with kisses all over his face, while the Third Consort squawked in indignation.

“Please keep from doing that in public,” said Kihyun, frowning in distaste.

“This is my palace, Kihyun,” said Hoseok, giving him a look. Hyungwon had stopped his futile protests, and now hung limply in the king's arms.

“You are scarring poor Changkyunnie,” said Minhyuk almost gleefully.

“No one is being scarred,” said Changkyun, but he was obviously uncomfortable. His ears had gone a bright red, and Kihyun was filled with a barely-suppressed urge to reach over and rub them.

"You are so embarrassed," cooed Minhyuk, squeezing the youngest consort into a hug. He did it so naturally, completely relaxed. Why was it so hard for Kihyun?

“I am not,” insisted Changkyun, but then he made eye contact with Kihyun and got even redder.

“Hoseok, stop, the kid is in distress,” said Hyungwon, batting at the king’s arm.

“No,” said Hoseok, and he easily lifted Hyungwon off his feet and started running with him. The Third Consort yelled and struggled, but eventually started laughing and let himself be carried away, bridal-style. Hyunwoo stood still a moment, perplexed, and then set off at a jog behind them.

“He’s so cute,” said Minhyuk fondly.

“He is a childish menace,” said Kihyun. He noticed Changkyun open his mouth to say something before closing it again, but did not push for his thoughts.

“Well, I shall be finishing up my new painting,” said Minhyuk. He looked at the Fourth Consort. “You wanted a demonstration?”

Changkyun blinked at Minhyuk, and then turned to Kihyun.

Minhyuk laughed. “Are you asking Kihyun’s permission?”

“No,” said Changkyun, flushing red.

“I have something I would like to discuss with the Fourth Consort, actually,” said Kihyun. “He can join you later, Minhyuk.”

The Second Consort pouted. “Fine,” he sniffed, and walked off with his retinue of servants.

“What did you want to speak to me about, Consort?” asked Changkyun, when Minhyuk had left.

What _did_ Kihyun want to speak to him about? “I just wanted to know how you have been,” he said. “How is the prince?”

“Prince Jooheon? He is well,” said Changkyun. He raised an eyebrow. “Or do you want to know how he is, not how he has been doing?”

“Both,” answered Kihyun smoothly.

“The answer is the same,” said Changkyun. “He is good. He is friendly, and humble, and seems genuine.”

Kihyun hoped he was. “You are fulfilling your duty well?” he asked.

“I believe so,” said Changkyun. “I think he and his personal guard enjoy my company.” A little smile appeared with his words, a soft glow of happiness and pride. Kihyun could have looked at it for hours.

“I am glad,” said Kihyun. And, without thinking, he added, “And not surprised.”

The smile grew, glowed brighter. “Thank you, Consort,” said Changkyun. “I think this might be the first time you have complimented me? I could get used to it.”

“You won’t,” said Kihyun, grinning.

“Then I shall take what I can get,” said Changkyun, still smiling. He looked so lovely when he smiled, perfect and innocent.

“It is good the prince enjoys your company,” said Kihyun. “You have been spending a lot of time with him.”

The smile faltered. “Too much?” asked Changkyun.

“No,” said Kihyun quickly. “No, of course not, he is a guest, and a very important one. You have done well.”

“I thought, perhaps…” Changkyun bit his lower lip, glanced away before maintaining eye contact again. “Perhaps the First Consort had… had missed my company?” He looked away and quickly added, “Or not. It was simply a thought, I mean nothing by it.”

He looked so uncertain, so sincere, Kihyun could not even think of teasing him. “Perhaps,” he said. He cleared his throat when Changkyun looked at him again. “Perhaps,” he repeated, “you could allow Minhyuk to entertain our guest awhile. He has been very eager to get to know the prince better.”

The change in Changkyun’s face, from insecure to surprised delight, was incredible to see. “Yes, Consort,” he said, smiling so brightly once again.

Kihyun smiled back, feeling that whisper, that warmth.

One of his attendants moved closer to him. “First Consort, a member of the court wishes to speak with you,” she said, motioning behind them before stepping back.

Kihyun turned around to see, standing at a respectful distance, a small group of people with a figure in maroon court robes at the head. The newest member had come to talk.

He nodded once, and Han Jehan approached, servants in tow. “First Consort, Fourth Consort,” he said by way of greeting, sinking into a bow. It was a good bow, low and respectful. Kihyun was satisfied.

“Minister,” he said. “What is the reason behind this unexpected meeting?”

“I wished to ask you about this education initiative,” said Han Jehan. “Is the king truly intent on having it started immediately? Our resources are already stretched, and we have yet to manage the gold for the border post fortifications planned for the coming two years.”

 _And where did you learn that, young courtier? Not even your father knew about the plans for the border posts._ “You should have brought it up during the session,” said Kihyun. “But I think you will find His Majesty is truly intent on it. He cares about the common people, and wants them to succeed.”

“An admirable mindset,” said Han Jehan, looking perfectly sincere. “Thank you, First Consort, for answering my question. I hope I have been not too great an annoyance.”

“Not at all,” said Kihyun lightly.

Han Jehan bowed, and then turned to Changkyun. “I am glad to finally make your acquaintance,” he said. “I am Han Jehan, youngest son of Han Jeyoon, and newest addition to the court of Yishin. Consort, you are even more beautiful than the stories say.”

A natural flatterer, then. Now Kihyun was slightly annoyed. “Thank you,” said Changkyun, with a polite smile. “I was not aware there were stories about me.”

“There are, Consort, all in praise of you,” said the minister. “If they are not to your taste, I will write a dozen more for you myself.”

“Thank you, Minister,” said Kihyun firmly, “but the Fourth Consort and I must be going. We shall see you at the next court session.”

“I look forward to it,” said Han Jehan, bowing low.

Kihyun took hold of Changkyun’s arm and lead their train away, perhaps a bit faster than usual. He was irritated. What was the minister playing at? There were definite romantic undertones to his conversation with Changkyun. In the olden days, that would have been enough to get the Fourth Consort a conviction for treason and an execution. _I should have let Hyunwoo stab him like he wanted to,_ seethed Kihyun.

“Are you alright, Consort?” asked Changkyun quietly.

“I am fine,” said Kihyun. He realized he was still holding on to Changkyun’s arm, and quickly let go. “That was Han Jehan. He is new to court.”

“Yes, he told me,” said Changkyun.

“Do not take offence to his words, he flattered me the same,” said Kihyun, and he did not know why he felt the need to mention that.

A little smile sprung to Changkyun’s lips. “He offered to write stories for you as well, Consort?”

Kihyun bristled. “Do you want stories, Consort?”

“Not from him,” said Changkyun.

The air changed, just a slight difference in its taste, but enough for Kihyun to feel. He quickly tried to shake it off.

“Never mind,” he said. “What were we speaking of before the minister interrupted?”

“I can ask Consort Minhyuk to keep Prince Jooheon occupied tomorrow afternoon,” said Changkyun. “I wish to show you something I found in the library.”

“You and the prince discovered it during your days in the library?” asked Kihyun, curious.

“I did not show it to Prince Jooheon, actually,” said Changkyun. “So will you come? Tomorrow afternoon, to the main library?”

Kihyun smiled. “Of course.”

 

The sun was low in the sky when Kihyun made his way to the main library. He had been kept busy looking over records of the royal household's expenditure and it was already late. He had sent Seungwoo ahead with a message already, but Kihyun still moved quickly down the hallways. Changkyun was waiting.

The Fourth Consort was sitting at a table when Kihyun entered, candles already lit around him. The golden glow of candlelight transformed him from handsome to otherworldly.

“I am sorry I am late,” said Kihyun, taking a seat opposite at the table. “I was occupied.”

“You will have to make it up to me,” said Changkyun, very obviously not upset.

“Is my presence not enough of a blessing?” said Kihyun. Changkyun rolled his eyes, making Kihyun laugh.

“At least you came,” said Changkyun, settling into his cushion. He glanced at Kihyun’s waiting coterie of servants. “Do you need them right now?”

“Why, will you be showing me something illicit?” asked Kihyun impishly.

Changkyun wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe.”

Kihyun laughed again and dismissed his attendants, first thanking them for their service. When the last woman had left and closed the doors behind her, Changkyun reached under the low table, but Kihyun stopped him with a hand. “As you made me send away my servants, you must answer this question for me,” he said. “Yesterday, when the king ran off with the Third Consort, what did you want to say?”

If Changkyun blushed, it did not show in the candlelight. “Nothing of importance,” he said. “I only wanted to ask if His Majesty often did things like that.”

“Quite often,” said Kihyun. Hyungwon was light, and Hoseok enjoyed picking him up and carrying him around.

“I have never seen him do it to you,” said Changkyun.

“I do not like that sort of thing,” said Kihyun. “Hyungwon, despite all his protests, does. Which is fortunate as the king favors him most.” He wondered if it was cruel of him to tell the youngest consort so frankly that the king already had a favorite, but decided it would be kind in the end.

Changkyun did not seem surprised. “Yes, I know,” he said. “I often find Consort Hyungwon’s rooms empty at night.”

“Yes, he spends most nights with the king,” said Kihyun. He paused. A topic he had been meaning to broach had come up by itself. “Has the king taken you to bed yet, Changkyun?” he asked.

“No,” said Changkyun. “And I do not think he intends to either.” He did not sound disappointed, or relieved. He simply stated the fact.

“I see,” said Kihyun. He was not sure how he felt about that exactly, or what to say in response. “Do not be too disappointed,” he tried.

“I am not,” said Changkyun, calm. “I understand. His Majesty does not view me as a lover.”

“Not because you are unattractive; you are certainly not,” said Kihyun, and he did not know why he said that. Surely a man that looked like Changkyun did would know he was attractive. “Many kings have had consorts they did not bed,” he continued. “My own relationship with the king is mostly platonic now.”

“Now,” repeated Changkyun hollowly. “But he has bedded you before.”

“Yes,” said Kihyun. Changkyun’s eyes were blank, empty, and it worried Kihyun. The Fourth Consort was obviously upset. “Let us end this conversation here,” he said, clapping his hands once sharply. He saw a book on the table and picked it up. “This is what you have been reading recently?”

“One of them,” answered Changkyun. He looked a bit more like himself now that the topic had gone to something he wanted to talk about. “I enjoy reading about history," he said. "This particular one is one of my favorites, as it details the foundation of Yishin as though it were a story.”

Kihyun took a moment now to inspect the cover, and read the author’s name. Ahrin of Hansan-do. Of course. Her most famous works were her fictional retellings of history.

“The first king founded the nation, with the aid of his five companions,” said Changkyun. “He married one, and the other four became the predecessors of the royal consorts. It was not necessary then that they promise their bodies to the king. It was rumored they were each other’s lovers.”

Kihyun had taken history lessons, so he knew all this. But Changkyun looked so excited relating the story that he simply nodded along.

“All of them were either orphans or left their families,” continued Changkyun, looking at the book in Kihyun’s hands with something akin to longing. “They came together and created their own family. I always found that beautiful.”

He fell silent then, still watching the book, and Kihyun cleared his throat. “Do you miss your family, Changkyun?” he asked. He had missed his parents terribly at first, and they had lived in the capital. It was obviously much harder for the Fourth Consort, being so far away from his own.

Changkyun shrugged noncommittally. “I suppose,” he said, taking the book from Kihyun. “We were not every close.”

This was unfathomable to Kihyun. Changkyun was his parents’ second son, their youngest. He must have been pampered and adored.

Catching Kihyun’s look, Changkyun continued, “My older brother was the favorite son. He is practical, and intelligent, and strong-willed. I liked reading about fairies and writing songs. I was the disappointment.”

“But the king chose you as consort,” said Kihyun. He hated hearing Changkyun speak like this, not upset at all, as though he really were unworthy. “That is one of the greatest honors anyone can be given in Yishin.”

“Yes, my parents were very surprised,” said Changkyun. “At first they grieved at losing their precious son. They were certain His Majesty had confused my name with my brother’s. When the king confirmed he truly wanted me, they were puzzled, and then relieved.”

Kihyun just stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Please do not be downhearted over this, Consort,” said Changkyun. “It is the truth, and I have long learned to accept it. In any case, I have a new family now.” He smiled.

“Do you really feel that?” asked Kihyun, as guilt and regret clawed inside him. “Do you really feel that I—we are your family?”

“Yes, now I do,” said Changkyun, smile turning a little mischievous. “It might have been a little awkward at the beginning, though. I felt like you and Consort Hyungwon hated me.”

“I did not,” said Kihyun immediately. “I… I simply needed some time to get used to you.”

“And are you?” Changkyun leaned in slightly. “Used to me?”

He looked so warm, so stunning in the golden light of the candles. Soft shadows fell across his face, lending his features a gentle glow. _No man should be able to look like this,_ thought Kihyun, as Changkyun’s dark eyes mirrored the flicker in the candle closest to his lips.

“I do not hate you, if that is your question,” said Kihyun. He leaned backwards, and disguised a deep breath. This was better. The distance felt safe.

“I’ll accept it,” said Changkyun, grinning. He leaned back, and reached under the table and brought out another book. “This is what I found recently,” he said, and that mischievous glint was back.

Kihyun took the thin book from him, fingers running against Changkyun’s as he did. He ignored the flutter under his skin and read the cover. Another work of Ahrin’s, this one even more famous than the previous. _White Carnation_.

“This book is banned, Changkyun,” he said.

“I know, I have never seen a copy before this one,” said Changkyun excitedly. “I was surprised to find that the royal library had an entire section of banned books.”

“Yes, no point in forgetting what we forbid,” said Kihyun, turning the book over in his hands. He looked up at Changkyun. “You have read it?”

“Of course,” said the Fourth Consort. “It hardly took one night. I came when everyone was asleep, and finished it before dawn.”

Changkyun’s secret maze of tunnels. He discovered more and more passages whenever he had the time, and now not even Kihyun knew the full extent of his knowledge. It seemed he had found one to the library as well.

“Have you read it, Consort?” asked Changkyun curiously.

Kihyun had. Although it was banned, it was still popular, and nobles would secretly pass a few copies around. He remembered being young and guarding his tattered copy as though being caught with it would send him to prison. That was before he had ever imagined he would be a consort himself.

“I have,” said Kihyun, deciding to go with honesty.

“Did you like it?” asked Changkyun, voice almost shy.

“It… was not badly-written,” said Kihyun carefully. He paused. This was a dangerous book to admit liking, being who they were. “If you have read the book, then you should know why it is banned, Changkyun.”

“I do,” said Changkyun with an almost frustrated sigh, looking away.

“It romanticized treason,” said Kihyun. He knew the younger consort knew this, but he had to tell him again. “It took a true betrayal of a king and made it into a tragedy, something to be regretted and mourned.”

Changkyun looked at Kihyun, and there was such anguish in his eyes. “They were in love,” he said. “How is that so wrong? How is that a betrayal?”

“He was a consort, Changkyun,” said Kihyun quietly. _Like you. Like me._

“They were meant to be together,” said Changkyun, staring at the book in his hands.

He looked so upset, so pained, that Kihyun felt his chest tighten. He laid a gentle hand over Changkyun’s. “Maybe they are, now,” he said softly.

Changkyun’s gaze moved to Kihyun’s hand over his, and then back to the cover of the book. “I just thought it so sad,” he said quietly, opening the book with one hand. “They loved each other. They should have been happy. It—” He swallowed. “It should not have mattered who they were.” His eyes wandered back to their hands, up to Kihyun’s face, and then dropped back again to the book.

Kihyun simply watched him. He looked more than beautiful, his eyes now wandering over the open page in front of him. Changkyun’s hand was warm underneath Kihyun’s, and Kihyun could feel how still it was, the tension beneath his skin, as though he were afraid to move it, afraid Kihyun would pull away if he did.

The realization came slowly. Like pebbles rolling down a hill, like the gentle, steady flow of a river. It was slow, but unstoppable, like a path winding downhill so gently it was no surprise when Kihyun reached the end, and found himself standing at the bottom.

Changkyun was attracted to him.

The Fourth Consort sat there in silence, reading a book on the forbidden love story of a past consort, features soft and glowing in the candlelight. And when Kihyun finally moved his hand away, he saw Changkyun’s fingers twitch, missing his warmth, missing his touch. Changkyun licked his lower lip and chewed on it a second, and then his features were still as he stared at the book, no longer reading.

And Kihyun just watched him. He did not know what else to do. Changkyun looked more beautiful than he ever had before, his entire face alive with the glow of the lit candles. He looked stunning, ethereal, and he sat right before Kihyun within arm’s reach and Kihyun did not know what to do.

_He wants me. He may even think he is in love with me._

“I must be going,” said Kihyun, rising in one motion. “It is late. You should return to your rooms as well.”

Changkyun nodded, closing the book. He kept his fingers on the cover.

“And you should stop reading that book,” said Kihyun. His words came out sharp, harsher than he had intended, but it was too late. “You are better than that.”

This time Changkyun did not react. He simply looked up at Kihyun, face blank, eyes empty. The weight of his gaze was too much to bear, and Kihyun quickly turned and left the library.

Outside, away from the soft golden glow of candles, the air was cooler, easier to breathe. Kihyun strode down the hallway, joined by Sewoon who stepped out from a nearby garden to follow him.

“Is everything alright, Consort?” the manservant asked quietly.

And because Kihyun did not want to lie to him, he did not answer.


	7. Seven at the Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And of my four companions, treat them better than you would princes, for they are far superior and have earned their rewards.
> 
>  _A Missive to my Subjects_  
>  King Hakyeon, First and Founding King of Yishin

The prime minister of Yishin was a busy man, but he still made time for leisure.

He sat in his private study, looking over his newest acquisition. His art collection was the largest in the country, barring that of the royal family, but he could not help add more and more. He did not discriminate between famous and unknown artists, buying any that caught his eye and fit his carefully curated theme. Art was Jo Senmi’s escape from politics, a place where he could see every detail perfectly and make the final decision himself.

Things in the political scene were taking a sour turn. The whole affair with educating the common people was bad business. Jo Senmi knew the king was considering the welfare of the poor, but was he truly so shortsighted? Give the peasants education, and they start to see all they lack: freedom, riches, power. Soon enough they would want to be involved in politics, and that would end in disaster. The masses were fools. People always chose the brightest urn, not knowing tin could be buffed brighter than silver.

Oh, Jo Senmi knew there were some in the court who genuinely agreed with King Hoseok’s decision, believing it to be a step of progress for Yishin. He counted them as fools. Peasantry could not be relied upon to make wise decisions. The nobility, while rather foolish at times, were the country’s one option. Jo Senmi blessed the foresight of the First King in establishing a court. There was something in the blood of kings that made them either bloodthirsty or foolishly idealistic, and the royal court was all Yishin had to keep them in check.

Jo Senmi sighed aloud. If there were more men like him, men who knew wisdom and were willing to act on it, the world would be a better place.

A servant entered, so quiet Jo Senmi did not hear. The prime minister nodded at the man to speak.

“Your guest has arrived, Prime Minister,” he said, bowing his head. “He has been shown into the study.”

Jo Senmi nodded, and the servant skittered off. The man was a dunce, totally ignorant of the world and how it worked beyond his strict obedience and the reward it earned him. The prime minister imagined him having the right to decide the course of politics in the country, and shuddered.

He had another servant put away the painting, and then rose and made his way to his study, trailed by yet more attendants. Seats had been set out in his study, and one was already occupied by his guest.

Han Jehan was a handsome man, all sharp, clean-cut features and dark hair. He rose and bowed deeply as the host entered, and Jo Senmi felt a flush of satisfaction. The bow was low and grave, much more sincere than most.

“Your Honor,” said Han Jehan. “Thank you for allowing me into your beautiful home. You honor me deeply.”

“Of course,” said Jo Senmi magnanimously. “Please, you may sit.”

“Thank you,” said Han Jehan, sitting down as Jo Senmi did the same. “I hope you have been well? You have devoted so much of yourself to Yishin’s court; it would be a tragedy if you were to fall ill as a result of your dedication.”

The prime minister smiled. Finally, a young man who appreciated him as he deserved. Most of the younger members of the court were loyal either to General Yeon Hu or the First Consort.

“I am well,” he said. “And your father? His retirement from the court saddened us all.”

“My father is well, and will be most honored to hear of you asking after his health,” said Han Jehan. “His health is better than it has been in recent years. I believe the responsibilities of the court had taken a toll on him. He did well in withdrawing.” He paused. “It was an intelligent move for his own wellbeing.”

He said it as pleasantly as ever, but there was something about those last words that put Jo Senmi at unease. He tried to shake it off.

“I am glad to hear it,” he said.

“I believe my father would have much to say about the court's recent decisions, were he here,” continued the younger man.

“Yes, Lord Han is very firm on his opinions,” said Jo Senmi. That was not exactly true. Lord Han had been completely loyal to Yeon Hu, voting however the general desired. The least that could be said was that he had chosen to be loyal.

“Father would have been impressed by the king's desire to help the common people,” said Han Jehan. “But I fear he would not have approved of his methods.”

“He would not be alone,” said Jo Senmi carefully.

“No, he would not,” said Han Jehan thoughtfully. “He might have found many others in court with the same thoughts.”

“I think the same,” said Jo Senmi, trying to ignore how Han Jehan spoke of his father as though he were dead, and how unnerving it was now that he had noticed.

The conversation paused as servants came in bearing trays loaded with tea and sweets. Han Jehan nodded at them in appreciation, a move Jo Senmi found wholly unnecessary. It was the servants’ job to serve.

“Prime Minister, I hope you will excuse my forward question,” said Han Jehan, taking a bowl. “Is First Consort Kihyun always so active in court sessions?”

“Yes,” answered the Prime Minister without a second thought. “Often he participates even more. I believe he has been restraining himself as a lesson to the Fourth Consort.”

Han Jehan regarded the contents of his bowl with interest. “How strange,” he remarked. “It leads one to wonder how much a consort would actually know of politics. Or how much one should.”

A tide of eagerness rose in Jo Senmi. Could it be? Someone else displeased with the First Consort? Many ministers did not like Kihyun and his interfering ways, but never dared to speak openly. Speaking against consorts was simply not done.

He ventured carefully, “The First Consort is of noble blood. He might have obtained a court seat if he had never been taken as consort.”

“Then it would have been one earned with merit,” said Han Jehan. “As it is, he is given the opportunity to speak at court simply because His Majesty found his voice charming.”

The prime minister briefly wondered how the young man knew one of the reasons behind Kihyun’s consortship, but dismissed it. It was not important. “I hope you understand our conversation is not to leave this room,” said Jo Senmi, leaning forward conspiratorially.

“Of course,” said Han Jehan, perfectly solemn.

Jo Senmi leaned back. “I agree with you, Minister,” he said.

“I admire your bravery in saying such a thing,” said the minister sincerely. “Not many men would be courageous enough to admit to being opposed to a consort.”

The prime minister's chest swelled with pride, before he realized the implications of Han Jehan’s statement. “Am I hearing correctly, Minister?” he asked. “You are opposed to Consort Kihyun?”

“Only his involvement in court,” said the minister smoothly. “The presence of the consorts during sessions is an ornamental one. They were never supposed to participate.”

“Exactly,” said Jo Senmi, clapping his hands once. “I have no personal enmity with the First Consort. I simply dislike his interest in politics.”

“I agree wholly,” said Han Jehan. He paused. “I approached the consort after the last court session,” he said. “I asked him of the king's intentions with this education idea.”

This was news to Jo Senmi. “What did he say?” he asked eagerly.

“Nothing of note,” answered the minister. “His behavior struck me, however. He seemed confident the king would not be swayed from his position, as though he were directly influencing him.”

“Interesting,” mused the prime minister. King Hoseok had always seemed a singularly stubborn man, unable to be moved once he had chosen his stance. If anyone could do it, however, it was his consorts. He was particularly fond of the third one, despite… everything.

“I have always felt one of the great things about our country was our court system, and how it balances with the king,” said Han Jehan. He paused, and then said, “If one man were to take control of both it would be dangerous.”

“Yes, I agree,” said Jo Senmi, and then quickly tried to hide his eagerness. He cleared his throat, and continued, “Unfortunately, it is not our place to criticize the consort’s interest in politics.”

“True,” said Han Jehan. “The only way the First Consort could be barred from court sessions is if he were to cease being a consort.”

“Consortship is a title until death,” said Jo Senmi, lost.

There was a beat of silence. And then Han Jehan said smoothly, “Just as I was saying. The court shall have to learn how to manage Consort Kihyun and his ambitions.” He smiled. “I am so pleased to find we share the same thoughts, Prime Minister.”

He really was a handsome man. The kind of man Jo Senmi’s late wife would have doted on, jested about how he would be a perfect husband for their daughter. They never did end up having a daughter.

He shelved the thought. “As am I,” he said.

Han Jehan nodded, and turned his attention to a painting on the wall. “Your collection is very impressive, Your Honor,” he said. “You have an incredible eye for art. I was hoping to hear more about them, if you have the time.”

Jo Senmi sat up straight, excited. “Of course, Minister.”

  
✧☆❀☆✧

 

Kihyun sat beside his king, leaning against him, book in his hands and not reading a word. On a cushion nearby, Changkyun sat, eyes fixed and unmoving on the open book he had in front of him.

It was a stand-off. Kihyun did not speak about what had happened in the library a few days ago, and neither did Changkyun. Enough had been conveyed without words already. They both knew, and now they were waiting for the other to say something.

Changkyun could keep waiting. Kihyun had nothing to say.

“Ooh, that was dramatic.”

Kihyun turned his head to find Hoseok looking over his shoulder, and snapped the book shut. “Why would you read over my shoulder?” he asked. “You know it is impossible to read comfortably when someone is reading over your shoulder.”

“You should be used to it by now, Kihyun,” said Hyungwon from where he was reclined against some pillows. “In my experience I’ve found Hoseok does it all the time.”

“What else am I to do?” grumbled Hoseok. “You have all abandoned me for your books.” He pouted. “I miss Minhyuk.”

The Second Consort was with the prince of Eigak. He had more or less taken over entertaining duties from Changkyun, and seemed to be enjoying it immensely. Prince Jooheon certainly had a talent for making friends. While Kihyun was happy Minhyuk got the chance to show the prince around his favorite places, it invariably meant Changkyun had more free time to do as he liked. And what Changkyun seemed to like was being in the same place as Kihyun.

“How can you say you have been abandoned when we are right here?” Kihyun leaned into Hoseok even more than before, pressing against his side and chest.

“Because all you do is ignore me,” said Hoseok.

“Am I ignoring you now?” asked Kihyun, nuzzling his face against the king’s neck. Hoseok chuckled and put an arm around him, holding him close.

“Kihyun, you’re leaving your face on Hoseok’s neck,” said Hyungwon dispassionately.

Kihyun rubbed his face against the king even more, daring Hyungwon to say it again, and the Third Consort rolled his eyes before opening his book again. Hoseok laughed, finding their exchange hilarious. His hand moved to the back of Kihyun’s head, and automatically Kihyun lifted his chin to kiss him.

It started sweet and gentle, but Kihyun bit at Hoseok’s lower lip, opened his mouth for him and drew his tongue inside. He felt Hoseok’s hand slide up into his hair, holding him in place as they kissed with passion.

“That is enough, don’t you think?”

Hoseok pulled away first, smirking. “Jealous?” he asked, out of breath.

“There are children here,” hissed Hyungwon.

Kihyun’s eyes flicked to Changkyun. The Fourth Consort was still watching him, dark eyes empty and blank. Kihyun did not shy away from his gaze, locking eyes with him as he fell back in under the king’s arm.

It was cruel, he knew, but it was a cruel kindness. This was who Kihyun was. He belonged to the king, body and heart. The sooner Changkyun realized that, the more pain he would be spared.

“Ah, I apologize,” said Hoseok, abashed.

“He is not a child, Your Majesty,” said Kihyun. He tore his eyes away from Changkyun. “You made him a consort as well, if you remember,” he said.

“That sort of thing is still inappropriate in public,” bristled Hyungwon.

Now Hoseok laughed in disbelief. “Public? Where?”

Hyungwon raised a hand and pointed directly at Hyunwoo. The commandant, surprised at suddenly being the center of attention, looked around perplexed.

“Hyunwoo is not the public, he is almost an extension of me,” said Hoseok. “And he does not mind what I do in his presence.”

“Now wait, perhaps we should ask him,” said Kihyun, straightening. He looked to the commandant. “Hyunwoo?”

Hyungwon barked a laugh. “Since when were you on first-name basis?”

“We are friends,” Kihyun shot back. He turned his attention back to Hyunwoo. “Well?”

“I am sorry, what is the question?” asked Hyunwoo stiffly.

“Does it bother you when Hoseok attempts to eat our faces in front of you?”

“Hyungwon!”

“It is the question, Hoseok,” said Hyungwon calmly. “Well?”

Hyunwoo glanced around helplessly, but found no easy answer. Finally, after a long silence he ventured, “Perhaps occasionally… if he could do it a little less I wouldn’t mind…”

Hyungwon gave the king a look of triumph, and then settled back into his cushions. Hoseok hung his head in defeat.

“I apologize, Hyunwoo,” he said. “I will try and control myself when I am in your presence.”

“There is no need, Your Majesty,” said Hyunwoo, obviously awkward.

“You are by my side nearly every hour of the day,” said Hoseok, with a warm, thankful smile. “The least I could do is make it comfortable for you as best I can.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Hyunwoo with a deep bow. The king smiled more brightly, and nodded.

“Changkyun, you have been rather quiet,” said Hyungwon, turning to the Fourth Consort. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Consort Hyungwon,” said Changkyun, his deep voice as calm and smooth as ever. “I was simply lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking about?” asked Hoseok, looking genuinely interested.

“A book I read recently,” answered Changkyun.

Kihyun’s stomach turned. _Do not ask about the book, Hoseok, please._ Changkyun would not lie, he knew. The Fourth Consort could be shockingly bold, even without speaking it directly.

He was saved by the door sliding open. Minhyuk walked in, smiling broadly. “Hello everyone,” he said. He moved out of the doorway, bringing two others into view. “This is Prince Jooheon, and Sojung,” he said.

“Yes, we know who they are,” said Hoseok, as Kihyun, Hyungwon and Changkyun all straightened and stood. He smiled. “Good afternoon, prince,” he said.

“Good afternoon to you as well, king,” said the prince, smiling brightly. He looked so youthful and innocent when he smiled. “And to you, consorts.” A step behind him, his bodyguard bowed.

Kihyun bowed slightly, Hyungwon and Changkyun doing the same. “To what do we owe this unexpected visit?” he asked with a pleasant smile.

“I was telling Jooheon about the card game Hyungwon taught us,” said Minhyuk. “He expressed an interest. I thought it would be fun if he and Sojung could join us for a game.”

 _First-name basis already, Consort?_ In truth, Kihyun was not very surprised. Minhyuk spoke of the Eigakese prince as he did of Changkyun, with unrestrained adoration. He viewed the two younger men as his younger brothers, boys to be doted on and cooed over. Kihyun could not agree. Prince Jooheon was certainly likeable and friendly, but he was still a crown prince, making it impossible for him to be as innocent as he appeared. And Changkyun was…

“I apologize for the sudden intrusion,” said Prince Jooheon, looking sincere. “The Second Consort was insistent you would not mind. It was impossible to convince him otherwise.”

“Yes, that sounds very much like my consort,” said Hoseok, amused. “However, in this case he is right. I truly do not mind.” He looked to Hyungwon. “Third Consort?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?” asked Hyungwon. He was speaking formally with their guest present.

“You are the only one who knows the rules, Hyungwon,” said the king. “Willing to teach another student?”

Hyungwon’s face lit up with excitement. “You bet,” he said.

The king and prince made small talk as servants were called in to set tables. Kihyun was introduced to Sojung. She was a surprisingly friendly young woman, and spoke comfortably but never rudely. It was obvious she had already made good friends with Changkyun, joking and laughing with him with ease, while Minhyuk looked on almost indulgently at their interactions.

The Fourth Consort liked her, her and Prince Jooheon both. It was obvious from the way he acted around them, how comfortable he was, how much he smiled. Changkyun had never been one to smile without a reason, and of late it appeared he had been finding fewer reasons. Kihyun felt a twist of guilt, and tried to put it aside. He was doing the right thing. He knew that, and soon Changkyun would too.

With the table and seats ready, they all gathered around the table. Sojung could not grasp the rules and announced the game impossible, but the prince was more stubborn. He went through them over and over, refusing to give up.

Hyungwon explained as patiently as he could, with Minhyuk and Hoseok occasionally adding a detail or two. Kihyun did not join in, unable to focus. He had made sure to seat himself between Minhyuk and the king, away from Changkyun. He could still feel the Fourth Consort's eyes on him, but ignored them. He had decided on this being his course of action after the revelation in the library. He would ignore it until the younger man understood the situation.

Kihyun was a consort. They were both consorts. There was nothing to say.

He snuck a glance at Changkyun, and was almost surprised to find that Changkyun was not looking back. He was focused on something Minhyuk had said, smiling and eyes bright. He was wearing blue, a color he had a fondness for and suited greatly. The dark shade brought to Kihyun’s mind the night sky, the feeling intensified by the spiral detailing in silver thread at the collar and sleeves. It was as though Changkyun had worn the night, as though he had brought a piece of a moonless sky down there in the king's sitting room. He kept all his hair away from his face, tied up at the back of his head and falling down his back in a sheet of perfect black. A single ornament of silver was in his hair, small yet striking. His lips were painted soft pink.

Kihyun took in all the details in one look, and then turned back to his cards. He could take his time with the image in his mind.

The Fourth Consort was beautiful beyond subjectivity. Kihyun could not help but feel a rush of pleasure at remembering such a beautiful man found him attractive. Of course, he knew his own charms. He was intelligent, confident and observant, and not bad looking besides. He was highborn, and it showed in his manners and speech. He had been widely praised for his singing even before being made a consort.

But Changkyun was something different. Something beyond. He was kind, and gentle, and he spoke to everyone with utmost respect, no matter their rank or birth. He was clever. Perhaps not in politics, which he did not care for, but his mind was sharp, working in ways Kihyun could only hope to grasp. He saw things most missed. He found twisted pieces of glass beautiful. He was fascinated by gears and wheels, taking apart systems and putting them back together. The art he liked had no fixed structure, but he could feel every emotion the artist wanted to convey. He enjoyed music, but in a way completely different from Kihyun—almost methodically, analyzing different songs, what made them unique, the melody, the tempo, the notes. He could recognize them all, take the song apart like it was one of his gear systems, and put it back together into something completely new.

And _he_ found Kihyun attractive.

Changkyun was a consort, and he deserved the title. Kihyun could not think of anyone more worthy.

If, perhaps, he had _not_ been a consort, neither he nor Kihyun, perhaps—

“How about we play a practice game?” asked Hoseok. “Trying it out is the easiest way to understand a thing.”

“That is a good idea,” said Hyungwon. “The game was in fact devised for seven players, so we are now the right number.”

Hyunwoo spoke up. “You wish me to join, consort?”

“Of course,” said Hyungwon easily. “Seven is the right number for this game, commandant. Moreover, you actually know how to play, unlike Hoseok.”

“Must you?” grumbled the king, pouting, and Hyungwon smiled.

He dealt the cards, starting with Prince Jooheon.

“Alright, so I deal every player six cards,” said Hyungwon, “because the entire vei deck is based on the number—”

Minhyuk gave a very loud, very fake yawn. Hyungwon shot him a glare, and continued, “We give the crown prince the advantage of starting the first hand.”

While Prince Jooheon puzzled over his move, Kihyun took a look at hand. It was not bad. Queen of Flowers—that would be useful—nine of Stars, ace of Flowers, four of Shells, seven of Rings, three of Knives. Kihyun felt a tug of unease at the last card.

It had been part of Hyungwon’s fateful spread, the one that had somehow convinced Hoseok to take Changkyun as consort. The one quick decision that had changed everything.

Kihyun could feel Changkyun watching him once more, and he forced himself to sit still. Of all he had expected since the Fourth Consort’s arrival, he would never have expected this.

Prince Jooheon played the first card uncertainly. It was the six of Scrolls. A safe choice.

“You are doing wonderfully,” encouraged Minhyuk. He played a three of Scrolls.

“Remember, we are playing seriously,” said Hyungwon as Kihyun passed. “No mercy on the novice players.”

“I should hope not,” said the king, playing a Scrolls’ nine. “I don't recall any of you taking mercy on me.”

“Or me,” grumbled Changkyun.

“Just so,” said Minhyuk, satisfied. He turned to Prince Jooheon and said, “Forgive us, Crown Prince, but you will find we are much too competitive to let even a simple game go.”

“Exactly as I like it,” said the prince. “No value in a victory if you did not earn it. “

He seemed to genuinely believe it, which already put him far above most of the nobles Kihyun had met. The Eigakese prince was warm and extroverted and good fun to be around. He could make friends easily, which was always a great advantage for a ruler. If he was genuine, he would inspire fierce loyalty.

“I should play intending to win?” asked Hyunwoo. It was now his turn.

“Yes,” said Minhyuk eagerly. “Come on, show us what you've got.”

The commandant still looked uncertain, but Hoseok nodded. Finally Hyunwoo played his card.

Minhyuk swore, very pretty words to match his face. Kihyun gaped in shock, and then gave in and sighed.

“What? What is it?” asked Jooheon, confused.

“He won,” said Hyungwon. He glared at the small pile of cards. “And before I even got to play one card.”

“That's the Emperor, Jooheon,” said Minhyuk. He was frowning, the expression exaggerated on his face as it always was. “Hyunwoo played it, so he won.”

“What, the round?” The prince was still lost.

“No, the entire game,” said Kihyun, gathering the cards on the table. “It is one of the rules. If the Emperor is played in the first round, the player wins the entire game.”

Jooheon stared. “Now you are just making rules up,” he finally said.

“Yes, I said the same!” said Changkyun, excited that he had found an ally. “I am certain they make up rules as they go along.”

“No, it actually is a rule,” sighed Hoseok. He pouted at his hand. “And I got such good cards, too! Look, I had the ace of Stars.”

“Yes and I had the Knights of both Flowers and Knives,” snapped Hyungwon. He glared at Hyunwoo, but not bitterly. “I cannot believe you would do that to me.”

Hyunwoo shrugged, a casual action that was so unlike his usual stiff demeanor that all three older consorts laughed. Hoseok was still sulking, Changkyun puzzling over the cards.

“Another game then?” offered Hyunwoo. “I will try not to end it so quick.”

“Do not flatter yourself, that was luck,” said Minhyuk, but he was grinning.

“Yes, another game,” said Jooheon eagerly. “We play until I finally understand it properly.”

“Your Highness, please, we only have five more moons in Yishin,” said Sojung dryly. Jooheon narrowed his eyes at her, and Kihyun allowed himself a small smile while Minhyuk and Changkyun laughed.

Gods, Changkyun had such a laugh. It was deep and melodious, and it carried in the air. Kihyun could barely remember the last time he had heard it. Had it been in the library? No, he had been quiet then, speaking softly even though they had been alone there.

“Kihyun, are you alright?” Hoseok leaned in towards him, asked the question quietly.

“I am fine, Your Majesty,” said Kihyun, propping up a smile.

“You can tell me if anything were bothering you,” said the king, still close. “I would do everything in my power to make you happy.”

Kihyun knew that. He also knew this was something not even the king could remedy. “I know, Hoseok,” he said. “Thank you, but I am fine.”

Hoseok looked unconvinced, but did not ask further. He leaned in a bit more, and Kihyun obliged by pecking him on the lips.

He felt eyes on him, more than one pair. He turned to find the Eigakese prince watching the two of them.

“I apologize,” said Jooheon hastily, embarrassed. “I was… we do not have the consort tradition in Eigak, so I was… fascinated?” He cringed and hid his face in his hands. “That was terrible," he said, voice muffled. “Please ignore me, I will sit like this awhile.”

Hoseok laughed, looking absolutely delighted at seeing the prince so flustered. “It is fine, I understand,” he said. “You can ask any questions if you are curious.”

“I have no questions,” said Jooheon from behind his hands.

“I have a question, if you do not mind, Your Grace,” said Sojung, from where she was seated behind the prince.

“I do not mind at all,” said Hoseok with a smile.

“Is your relationship the same?” asked Sojung. “With all your consorts?”

“Not exactly the same,” said the king easily. “But I do love them all. They are the ones I love most in the world.”

“That is wonderful,” said Jooheon, over his embarrassment. “I hope this is not offensive, but truth be told I often forget Changkyun is your consort. He speaks of you as more of a friend, or a brother.”

Hoseok smiled indulgently, but Kihyun was watching Changkyun. The Fourth Consort sat still, looking at the king, his dark eyes expressionless like when Kihyun had first met him. He looked emotionally detached from the conversation, but Kihyun knew better. He was in thought. There was a whole range of emotion hidden behind those midnight eyes, colors clashing underneath black, and he guarded them carefully there.

Changkyun looked at Kihyun, met his gaze, and Kihyun saw a spark of color.

“Shall we start again?” asked Hyungwon, already dealing the cards.

Kihyun swallowed, picked up his hand, and nodded.


	8. Six of Flowers, Three of Knives, The Emperor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aside from the six suits, there are a further 12 cards classified as unaligned. These can be grouped into six pairs, with each pair consisting of opposing cards. The two exceptions to this relation are Pyramid and Mirror, and as such these two are often paired together. They are also unique in that they are the only two cards in the deck for which orientation is integral to the interpretation
> 
> _An Introduction to the Vei: Cards, Spreads and Interpretations_  
>  Hyungwon, Third Consort to King Hoseok, 23rd King of Yishin

“Your Majesty, your guest wishes to see you.”

Hoseok lifted his head from Kihyun’s lap. “My guest? Jooheon?”

“Yes, the prince of Eigak,” said Hanyeol, one of Hoseok’s messengers. “He requests a meeting, if you are available.”

“Did it sound urgent?” asked Hoseok, brows furrowing.

“In my opinion, it did not, Your Majesty,” said Hanyeol. “Should I send word you will receive him later?”

Hoseok frowned, thinking it over, but Kihyun hit him on the head. “He is Crown Prince of Eigak, and your guest besides,” said the First Consort. “You should speak with him.”

“Hanyeol said it did not sound urgent,” said Hoseok, burrowing his face further into Kihyun’s thighs. “Jooheon can wait for awhile. I am comfortable.”

“Your Majesty,” said Kihyun, and his voice was kind, but Hoseok saw him reach for his fan. He sat up immediately.

“That was cruel,” he grumbled. “I am your king.”

“I did nothing,” said Kihyun innocently.

Hoseok shot him a sour look but said nothing. Kihyun might have been more affectionate lately, but he was still Kihyun. He turned to Hanyeol. “Let the prince know I am ready to receive him,” he said. Hanyeol bowed and left the lounge room.

“I wonder what the prince would want to speak to you about,” said Kihyun, rearranging Hoseok’s collar and robes. “You are never alone together.”

“I do not think he is coming to talk about his interests and hobbies,” said Hoseok with a grin. “After all, we cannot be friends, at least not wholly. He is the crown prince of Eigak.”

“He is quite friendly with Minhyuk and Changkyun, though,” said Kihyun, and Hoseok thought he could hear a slight bitterness in his words. Jealousy? Kihyun was quite close with Minhyuk, and might not enjoy Jooheon winning such a high place in his affections.

“Yes, he is,” said Hoseok, watching Kihyun’s expression and trying not to look amused. “He is a friendly man. I believe he has won over Hyungwon and Hyunwoo as well.”

“He has charms,” admitted Kihyun.

For some reason Hoseok was pleased to hear that. He liked Jooheon. He was wary about his intentions, because one day Jooheon would be king of Yishin’s only rival state and Hoseok would be a fool to expect innocent friendship. But Jooheon seemed a good man. Hoseok had instinctively liked him on their first meeting, and so far Jooheon had proven his instincts lead him true. His other consorts and his closest friend had all liked the prince as well. To hear Kihyun’s approval, however vague it might be, reinforced Hoseok’s confidence in his decision.

“I am glad to hear he has won you over,” said Hoseok with a bit of a smug smile. “At least a bit.”

Kihyun scoffed at the grin and gave Hoseok a light shove. “As though I had a choice,” he said.

In a way, Hoseok understood what he meant. It felt impossible to know Jooheon for any length of time and not wish to be friends with him. He simply exuded an aura of genuine warmth.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “And Changkyun as well. You seem to be close with him.”

“He is a lovely young man,” said Kihyun. “I will admit to my first impression being wrong. He was a good choice for consort.”

Hoseok puffed up his chest and beamed, which made Kihyun laugh and push him again.

There was a knock on the doorframe, and Hoseok called out, “You may enter.” The door slid open to reveal Prince Jooheon, his ever-present guard a step behind.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” said Jooheon, entering the room.

“Of course,” said Hoseok with a smile, as Kihyun rose. Jooheon looked embarrassed at Kihyun’s show of respect, but Kihyun brushed it off with a smile. The smile looked genuine.

“I was hoping to take a walk with you, King, if it is not a bother,” said Jooheon.

He wanted a private audience. Kihyun understood Hoseok’s glance and said, “Your Majesty, I must go speak with the other consorts. Please excuse me. Your Highness.” He bowed, Sojung bowed in turn, and then he left the room.

“I am all yours, Prince,” said Hoseok, rising. “Come, I will show you some of my favorite gardens.”

He walked over to the doors, Hyunwoo trailing close by. Before Jooheon followed, however, he turned to Sojung and said, “Sojung, you may go.”

His guard stared at him. “I am sorry, my prince?” she asked, shocked.

“You may go,” said Jooheon, smiling gently. “Hyunwoo will be with the king and I. I am in no danger at all.”

Sojung seemed too surprised to form a proper sentence. “But—Your Highness—”

“I assure you, it is fine,” said Jooheon with an amused smile. “You may go and rest, take some time for yourself. Even _my_ face must be tiring by now.”

She was too perplexed to shoot back something witty in turn. Jooheon laughed, and then motioned to Hoseok to lead the way.

As they walked down the open hallway, Hoseok could not help but feel honored by Jooheon’s gesture. He knew what it meant. Eigak had had a stormy history with its royal family, and there were still factions in its court that opposed them, some more dangerous than others. The crown prince had elected to give his personal guard a break. He was showing Hoseok he trusted him.

“I hope you will forgive me, but I am sure you know this will not be a casual conversation,” said Jooheon as they approached one of the inner gardens of wildflowers.

“Yes, I had thought so,” said Hoseok with a small smile to himself.

“I am sure you know my country’s stability is fragile,” said Jooheon, voice calm and even. “My own family only assumed power four generations back. There are factions of the court opposed to my family, some violently so.”

He said it so frankly Hoseok was lost for words. “I did not know,” he said dumbly.

Jooheon gave him a look of absolute disbelief, and the whole exchange was so ridiculous Hoseok burst out laughing. “I apologize,” he said after he had calmed down, but Jooheon was grinning too. “In truth, I did not know it was to that extent.” Sources over the border were unreliable, despite Minhyuk’s best efforts.

“Things are getting better,” said Jooheon. “What I want is to make my country stable. This includes making peace with yours.”

“I am glad to hear that,” said Hoseok. “I feel the same. This long-standing enmity must come to an end, or at the least improve.”

“Unfortunately, not all feel the same,” said Jooheon. “My grandfather pushed for improved relations, but could not get the court’s support. My mother is now attempting to do the same. It will not be easy to win a majority of the court. I have been trying to win over lords and ministers for many moons now.”

Hoseok frowned. “I support your endeavors, Crown Prince, but I cannot become involved in another country’s internal affairs.”

“I would not ask your involvement, only your understanding,” said Jooheon smoothly. “The process will take time, but my family is committed to it.” He paused. “I call this visit a casual one, but that is not wholly true. I wished to know more of the man who ruled my country’s only rival.” He smiled. “I am glad to find he is worthy of his crown.”

He spoke so sincerely Hoseok could not help but smile. “You honor me too much,” he said.

“I have heard of your efforts at improving the prospects of your people,” said Jooheon. “It is admirable. You will have a difficult time, though. I have found most of the rich do not much enjoy the idea of others becoming the same.”

“I am willing to bear a bit of difficulty,” said Hoseok with a smile. “I think you will do the same, for your people. You have my support, Jooheon.”

Jooheon nodded solemnly. Then he clapped his hands and said brightly, “That is enough serious talk for now. Let us do something else.”

Hoseok thought over what he might do with the prince, when Hyunwoo suddenly said, “I am quite hungry.”

“You are getting rather bold, aren’t you?” said Hoseok with a laugh. “But it is a good idea. Let us have an early lunch.”

“Sounds good,” said Jooheon, grinning. “Will there be honeycakes? I love them perhaps too much.”

“For you, I will have some freshly made,” said Hoseok. And the king of Yishin and crown prince of Eigak headed off towards the dining room, side by side, discussing desserts.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

“What are you doing?”

“Conducting a reading,” said Hyungwon calmly. “You’re free to join.”

Kihyun looked at the other three consorts gathered around the table. “Why?”

“Because he has not started yet,” said Minhyuk, grabbing a handful of Kihyun’s robes and pulling him down. He motioned to a nearby servant to bring another cushion.

“No, I mean why are you having a reading?” asked Kihyun, giving in to Minhyuk's insistent tugging and sitting down.

“We haven’t had one since Changkyun’s arrival,” said Hyungwon. “He asked me about the vei. I thought I could show him.”

Kihyun glanced at Changkyun, found the younger man sitting with his calm, fixed expression. He turned his attention back to Hyungwon. “You just want to show off,” he said.

“Perhaps,” admitted Hyungwon without missing a beat.

“Come, Kihyun, it will be fun,” said Minhyuk excitedly. For some reason, he always enjoyed readings. Kihyun felt the exact opposite. There was something about prodding mystic, unknown forces for glimpses at the future that put him at unease.

“First Consort, I hope you will join us,” said Changkyun from Kihyun’s left.

“I will,” said Kihyun, trying not to sound stiff.

“Wonderful, the cards are here,” said Minhyuk, as a servant came in carrying a wooden box engraved with swirls and flowers. Hyungwon took the box and pulled out the deck inside. The cards were heavy and lacquered, painted by Minhyuk himself as a gift to Hyungwon over two years ago. They were used only for special occasions. It appeared trying to impress Changkyun counted as a special occasion.

“We will do a typical three-card reading,” said Hyungwon to Changkyun as he shuffled the cards. “Every participant receives three cards. The first I will deal face-up. The second you will pick from the deck, and reveal to everyone at once. The last you will pick and first see by yourself before finally revealing it to the table.”

“Remember, you cannot try to end the reading before it is done,” said Minhyuk seriously. “It must be completed.”

“What happens if I try to interrupt?” asked Changkyun, just as serious.

“Very bad things,” said Hyungwon simply.

“What kind of bad things?”

“According to Hyungwon, the vei does not like to be interrupted,” said Kihyun. “If you interrupt the meeting, you bring on horrible luck. It will attempt to bring you bad fate.”

“You speak of it as though it were a living thing,” said Changkyun.

“It is… vague,” said Hyungwon. “I feel living energy, but it is obviously just a deck of cards—Minhyuk made these himself. The Kings of the deck are nothing but painted images, but have peculiarities like people.”

“Or gods,” murmured Changkyun. Only Kihyun heard him, and did not comment.

“So if all questions are done, I will begin,” said Hyungwon.

A silence fell over the table, something heavier than a lack of sound. Kihyun glanced at Changkyun, just to gauge his emotions. His face was a calm mask, but Kihyun could feel the nerves emanating from him. He gripped his robes under the table to fight off the urge to reach out and comfort him. Hyungwon pushed his sleeves back and shuffled the deck one last time. He dealt himself the first card.

“Queen of Rings, Envy,” said Hyungwon. He sounded almost bored, as though the card was no surprise to him. “Self-explanatory.”

Changkyun looked close to asking why Hyungwon would get such a card, but refrained. Hyungwon dealt Minhyuk next.

“Knight of Stars, the Page,” he said. “Personification of duty and diligence.” Minhyuk smiled smugly.

It was Kihyun’s turn next. He found himself holding his breath, and slowly released it as Hyungwon flipped a card face-up in front of him.

“Eight of Knives,” said the Third Consort. “A difficult decision.”

Kihyun kept his face calm, but his thoughts were whirring. A difficult decision? One in the future, or one he was facing now? His eyes automatically flicked to Changkyun. The Fourth Consort met his gaze, and Kihyun quickly looked away.

“Ace of Scrolls,” said Hyungwon, as he placed Changkyun’s card on the table. “A singularity of purpose.”

Changkyun licked his lips, and picked up the card. He did not look at Kihyun.

“That is the first round completed,” said Hyungwon. “Next.” He fanned out the deck, pulled one card out and placed it face-up on the tabletop.

It was the seven of Rings. Unlike most decks where the image would be of seven plain rings, scattered or interlocked, Minhyuk had painted a man in black and white robes, dancing while holding large rings of silver. Hyungwon stared at the figure, eyes transfixed.

Minhyuk shared a glance with Kihyun, and then ventured cautiously, “Hyungwon?”

He started out of his daze. “Yes, sorry,” said Hyungwon. “I got lost in the details. Seven of Rings. A—a secret desire.” He looked shaken, and he bit and chewed at his lower lip as Minhyuk pulled out his own card from the deck and placed it on the table.

“Grave,” he said. He turned to Changkyun and said, “It is an unaligned card, not in any of the six suits. It denotes an ending.”

Minhyuk exhaled, and propped up a smile. But things were going wrong. No card had evil meaning, but Kihyun did not like Grave, especially in relation to Minhyuk. The Second Consort was the steady, sunny pillar of the household, a constant. The vei was not chronologically forward, so the card could mean an ending in the past that would have an impact on Minhyuk’s future, one even before his diligence began, but Kihyun did not like it.

It was not only that. Hyungwon still looked out of sorts, and Kihyun had never seen him that way during a reading before. The Third Consort always seemed uninterested whenever he read his own future, as though he already knew what the cards would say. This time he had been surprised.

Kihyun picked a card, feeling a sense of ill foreboding. He swallowed when he saw it, already knowing its meaning.

“Pyramid, upside down,” said Hyungwon. “Another unaligned. Pyramid is a marker of stability. Upside down means a time of instability.”

Last, Changkyun picked a card and placed it on the table. The side profile of a woman, showing an extravagant earring of shells and pearls.

“Three of Shells,” said Hyungwon. “A turbulent, changing environment.”

If Changkyun was surprised, he did not show it. He simply nodded and took the card.

It was now time for the final round. Hyungwon picked a card, and Kihyun saw the corner of his eye twitch, but otherwise he did not react. Minhyuk was next, and he furrowed his brows and frowned exaggeratedly at his card.

Kihyun took a breath, reached out to the fanned-out deck, and picked a card.

Six of Flowers.

He stared at it, feeling emotions churning in his gut, rising up his throat. He knew this card. He knew exactly what it meant, that it was a simple card and that there would only be one interpretation. Six of Flowers.

Romantic happiness.

His gaze moved to Changkyun of its own will, and he found the younger man looking back at him, concern writ on his features. Kihyun quickly rubbed a hand over his face, trying to force his expression into calmness. He snuck a look at the others, but they were too busy with their own cards to notice him.

Changkyun picked his card, and his expression was blank, even. Most likely he did not know what it meant.

Kihyun looked back at his own. It was an innocent image, two young men sitting in a field together weaving a crown of six flowers, every minute detail done in Minhyuk’s expert hand. Kihyun felt nauseated. He could taste the bile coming up his throat, trying to choke him, burn him from the inside out.

Six of Flowers. How could he explain it? What would he say when the others saw the card? When Changkyun saw the card?

He loved Hoseok. He was his king, and his friend. Of course he loved him. But their relationship had long ago ceased to be romantic, and this was well-known. There was no reason for Kihyun to pick the six of Flowers.

Without thinking, Kihyun’s eyes went to Changkyun once more. No acceptable reason.

He must have still looked panicked, because Changkyun was looking at him intently, dark eyes so full of concern. Kihyun shied away from the look.

“We reveal our cards one by one,” said Hyungwon. “I… I begin.” He put his card on the table and said, “Two of Stars. A tie to the past.” His expression was blank as he looked at Minhyuk to continue.

“It’s the Shells’ nine,” said Minhyuk, placing his card down.

“A new environment,” explained Hyungwon.

Kihyun was next. He was next and he had the six of Flowers in his hand. His thoughts spun in his head, furious like a whirlwind. The nausea was at a peak now, clawing at his chest and throat. He would have to show the card, and it would all fall apart. He knew that, somehow, even though he did not know how it would happen. He just knew that they would learn about Changkyun, and the book in the library, and Kihyun, and everything would end.

“This is stupid.”

The card was jerked out of Kihyun’s hand before he could react. Stunned, he turned to Changkyun to find him gathering all the cards together and sliding them back into the deck. His heart was pounding in his chest, ready to break out of his ribcage.

“Changkyun, what are you doing?” asked Hyungwon, horrified.

“It was boring,” said Changkyun, putting all the cards in a stack. The six of Flowers was lost among them. “Let us do something else.”

“You—you cannot interrupt a reading,” said Hyungwon, words heavy with shock. “Do you know what you have done? Not only to yourself, but to us as well. It’s a curse, Changkyun. How could you do this, after we warned you what would happen?”

“You cannot believe that, Consort,” said Changkyun with a laugh, putting the cards back into the box. “They are cards. They cannot curse us. They cannot do anything.”

“What are you saying? That I am a fraud?” Hyungwon’s voice was shot through with rage now. “I have been deceiving all of you? That I lied to Hoseok? The only reason you are here now is because of me.”

“Hyungwon—” Minhyuk started, but was ignored.

“If I were lying, do you think you would be here?” asked Hyungwon, harsh and steady in that way he became only when he was truly angered. “Do you truly believe I would have convinced Hoseok it was a good idea to choose you? That I would not have given a different reading later? Do you really think I ever wanted you here?”

Changkyun did not answer. A heavy silence fell over the table. Kihyun was unable to tear his eyes away from Changkyun, not even when Changkyun looked at him and their eyes met.

“I think I will go now,” said the Fourth Consort, rising from his seat.

Kihyun did not say anything. He glanced at Hyungwon and found him staring at empty space, brows still furrowed. He and Minhyuk exchanged concerned looks.

“Thank you for showing me how it all works,” said Changkyun, deep voice perfectly even. He bowed politely, and then turned and left the room. Kihyun forced himself not to watch him go.

The silence left in his wake was thick and heavy with tension. “That was… quite eventful,” said Minhyuk brightly, an obvious attempt at lightening the mood.

“I agree,” said Kihyun, trying to get his mind off his last card, off Changkyun. “I think we could all do with some fresh air. Let us go for a walk outside.”

He and Minhyuk waited. Finally, Hyungwon said, “Yes. Alright.”

Minhyuk rose first, followed by Kihyun and then Hyungwon, and then they exited the room. The vei deck was left in its box.

 

Six of Flowers.

It was late night, and Kihyun was in his bedroom, being attended to by his waiting ladies. His hair had been unbound and was being combed, all his powder and paint wiped away. It was part of his nightly routine before bed, a time when he could close his eyes and mull over the events of the day.

He was thinking about Changkyun. He had not stopped since the disastrous reading.

Changkyun had interrupted the reading for a reason, and it was not because he did not believe in the vei. Kihyun could not forget the look in his eyes when he had realized Kihyun’s distress. The first card Changkyun had taken had been the one in Kihyun's hand, and he had mixed it with the other cards face-down. He had made sure no one would see it, not even himself.

He had done it for Kihyun.

Kihyun did not think he was being self-important, or that he was a fool. All clues pointed to one conclusion. Changkyun had stopped the reading, brought terrible luck on himself, indirectly insulted Hyungwon and earned his wrath—all for him.

And he could not stop thinking about it.

All day it had run in his brain, whispering in his mind. He had not seen Changkyun once in that time. Minhyuk had placated Hyungwon, and said he had spoken to Changkyun as well, but Kihyun did not seek out the youngest consort. He was a coward. He did not know what to say to Changkyun, whether he should thank him or question him or criticize, so he had hidden in his rooms, even taking his meals there. It was the only way to ensure they did not cross paths.

But now it was night, and a full moon hung in the sky, and all Kihyun could think about was Changkyun.

He closed his eyes a moment, trying to banish his thoughts. When he opened them again, they fell upon a mirror of polished silver laying by the window. Moonlight and candlelight shone on it in unison, creating both an interesting contrast and beautiful harmony.

“Hyemi,” said Kihyun, and the woman combing his hair paused. “Send for Sewoon. Ahreum, Jongil, Woohyuk—you may all go.”

The other servants all bowed and left, but Hyemi, Kihyun’s oldest and one of his closest, hesitated and said, “Your hair, Consort? Should I not tie it up?”

“Leave it, I will retire to bed soon anyway,” said Kihyun. He smiled at her for her thoughtfulness, and watched her leave.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the doorframe, and Sewoon entered and bowed. “You requested my presence, Consort?”

“Yes, thank you for coming despite the late hour,” said Kihyun. “Please send for the Fourth Consort.”

The barest hint of a crease appeared on Sewoon’s forehead. “Now, Consort?”

“Yes, now,” said Kihyun, feeling oddly impatient. He had to see Changkyun. “I am sure he will be awake.”

“Very well, Consort,” said Sewoon, and he bowed and left.

Alone in his bedroom, Kihyun shifted nervously on his cushion. Why did he wish to see Changkyun so badly he could not even wait until morning? He only knew he had to say something to him, but he did not know what.

After what felt like both an age and a moment, the door slid open. Changkyun entered and slid it closed behind him.

He looked beautiful. He had not dressed for bed yet, still in the coral red robes he had worn during the reading, hair still tied back. He stood rooted where he was, not speaking.

“Thank you for coming,” said Kihyun, rising. “I wanted to speak to you about what happened during the vei reading.”

Changkyun stared at Kihyun as though he were in a daze. Kihyun frowned, wondering what had affected him so much, until he reached up to scratch at his nape and realized.

His hair was loose. Changkyun had never seen Kihyun with his hair unbound. Kihyun thought of tying it up, but there was something in Changkyun’s eyes that stopped him. It looked like wonder, and it snaked inside Kihyun’s heart and tugged at it.

“I wanted to thank you,” said Kihyun, walking over to a side of the room. Changkyun mirrored him, so that they were opposite each other. “I know you interrupted the reading because you saw I was uncomfortable,” said Kihyun. “It was very considerate of you. Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” murmured Changkyun, so quietly Kihyun barely heard him.

“It was not nothing,” said Kihyun. Changkyun snapped out of his daze as they made eye-contact, and Kihyun had to take a moment’s breath before continuing, “Interrupting a vei reading is serious, Changkyun.”

“I know,” said Changkyun, but he looked distracted once more. He could not hold Kihyun’s gaze, his eyes flicking either to the thick auburn hair Kihyun had spilling over one shoulder, or slightly lower down his face. “I—I was concerned for you, Consort. I just wanted you to… to not worry.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” said Kihyun. Changkyun was still watching him with that same look of wonder, of adoration, dark eyes shining and lips lightly parted. He was standing by the large window, catching the light of both the candles and the moon, and the effect was spellbinding.

Kihyun turned around before he could fall in deeper. It felt dangerous, all of it. What was he even doing? Inviting Changkyun to his bedroom so late at night, dismissing all his servants so they would be alone? What did he think would happen? What did he hope would?

He took a deep breath, and turned around. “Changkyun—”

He was met by lips crashing into his, hands reaching up to cup his face and bury themselves in his hair. The scent of lavender overwhelmed Kihyun as Changkyun kissed him, hands strong but gentle on his body. He was paralyzed by the feeling of Changkyun’s lips against his, and he stood where was, unable to think, unable to move.

Soon, too soon, Changkyun pulled away. They stared at each other, Kihyun’s eyes still wide with shock, Changkyun’s indecipherable behind the black. And then without another word Changkyun whirled around and fled.

Kihyun stood where he was. The rest of his body felt numb, but his lips, his cheeks—all the places Changkyun touched him—were burning. He was still trying to understand, his brain trying to piece together everything that had happened. He had been talking, and Changkyun had…

Changkyun had kissed him.

Kihyun had been too stunned to react. Now that he had thought it over, he felt incredibly, uncontrollably angry.

He stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The hallways were still lit, and a few maids and cleaners wandered them. They watched Kihyun with shocked expressions as he strode past with his face completely free of powder and hair streaming behind him. He did not care. He had to see Changkyun. Now.

He made it all the way to the entrance of Changkyun’s set of rooms before he was stopped. It was one of the young men who served Changkyun, brought all the way from his hometown, and he did not so much as stop Kihyun as bow in shock and ask, “First Consort, is there anything you would like?”

“Yes, I would like to see the Fourth Consort,” said Kihyun. “Send word to your master I have come to speak to him. Alone.”

The man shifted in discomfort. “He is getting ready for bed,” he said.

“You know I am First Consort, and still dare to disobey?” yelled Kihyun, rage bubbling over. “I am here to see Changkyun. Tell all the servants to get out.”

The man hurriedly bowed and entered the hallway behind him. A few moments later he came back with a woman. They bowed to Kihyun before running off.

The anger was still burning hot in Kihyun’s chest as he entered the square of the open-roofed garden of herbs and wildflowers, and threw open the door to Changkyun’s bedroom. Changkyun was there, still dressed but hair loose, waiting for him.

“How dare you?” spat Kihyun. “How fucking dare you? Do you know who I am?”

Changkyun was looking at the floor. “I am sorry,” he said.

“I am the First Consort of Yishin!” said Kihyun, advancing on him. “I am not for you to touch. I am not for you to kiss. _I am not for you_.”

“I know, and it will never happen again,” said Changkyun, still not making eye-contact. “I just—I am sorry.”

“You dare to—to kiss me and then run away?” demanded Kihyun furiously. “Why, when you yourself are a consort, would you do that? Why, Changkyun? _Why?_ ”

Changkyun finally looked up. “You know why,” he said.

“No,” said Kihyun, but he could feel the anger drain away. The feeling that replaced was heavy, difficult to grasp. “I do not know. Tell me.”

“You know,” said Changkyun, half-turning away and lowering his gaze.

Kihyun stood in place, his every breath loud in his ears. Changkyun stood just a step away, dark eyes a storm of emotions. The same storm Kihyun had felt on his lips, the one even now building inside his chest.

“I am sorry,” said Changkyun, and his deep voice was weighted even more with sadness. “I did not intend to. I should not have forced myself onto you. It is no excuse, but I could not control myself.” He looked at Kihyun. “You were just so beautiful.”

His words were soft, earnest. Kihyun stared at Changkyun, at the gorgeous, unique young man in front of him, and he felt everything build up. Everything that had happened before, that had led to this moment, where Kihyun stood before Changkyun, heart pounding in his chest.

He was a consort. Changkyun was a consort. Hoseok had taken Changkyun as consort, just as he had taken Kihyun, and that could never be changed, never be anything different. Consortship was Kihyun’s identity. It was everything.

But Changkyun was looking at him, and everything meant nothing to Kihyun.

Six of Flowers.

Kihyun took a step towards Changkyun, heart thudding.

Three of Knives.

He slid a hand into Changkyun’s hair, watched surprise bloom on his face.

The Emperor.

He kissed him.

Changkyun’s lips were soft against Kihyun’s. The heady scent of lavender invaded Kihyun’s senses, and he lost himself in it completely. Changkyun was frozen in surprise, and then suddenly he was responding, kissing Kihyun back.

There was no hesitation, no timid prodding. Changkyun bit Kihyun’s lower lip, and Kihyun gasped and parted his lips for him, letting Changkyun slide his tongue inside. The taste of him was intoxicating. Kihyun let out a soft sound, not even thinking of stopping himself, and it spurred Changkyun on even further. He kissed him passionately, tongue stroking against his, curling against the roof of his mouth, trying to taste all of him. Kihyun was aware of Changkyun’s hands at his waist, of being pushed back, until his back hit the wall and he was pressed up against it, still grabbing Changkyun close by the front of his robes. They parted a moment, gulping down desperate breaths before Kihyun sought Changkyun’s lips once more. Changkyun murmured a halfhearted protest against his lips, but Kihyun kissed it away. The next moment Changkyun was kissing him again, hands going up into his hair, and everything else was forgotten.

Kihyun was on fire. Every place Changkyun touched, he felt it. It was hot at his fingertips, his neck, on his lips. He needed more. He needed it to engulf him completely, burn him away.

He pulled Changkyun as close as he could, until their bodies were flush against each other. He could feel something against his chest, something small and hard digging in, and with an irritated growl he reached for it, intending to fling it aside.

Kihyun’s hand closed around a small, stone-like object at the end of a chain.

The lavender jade pendant.

Like a flood, everything came back. Kihyun was a royal consort. Everything that was him, belonged to the king. His soul, his heart, his body. And he was kissing another man.

He could still feel the fire, but now he could feel it killing him.

He pressed both palms to Changkyun’s chest and shoved him away. They stared at each other, both gasping for breath. Changkyun’s hair was disheveled, his clothes in disarray. His lips were red and shiny. He looked confused, and after a moment he reached out for Kihyun again, tilting his head for another kiss.

Kihyun pushed him again, harder this time. Changkyun looked lost now, as though he could not understand what was happening, why Kihyun was rejecting him.

Kihyun took long, deep breaths, and then finally managed to say, “This was a mistake.” His voice shook and he swallowed before continuing, “All of… this. We cannot… this—this never happened.”

“What?” asked Changkyun blankly. He looked as though he were still in the same daze Kihyun had been in just a few moments ago, when nothing had mattered except the two of them. “What do you mean, this never happened? It—this is real—”

“This never happened,” repeated Kihyun, and his voice was loud, screechy to his own ears. “I— _we_ are consorts. It is all wrong, Changkyun. You must see that. We cannot do this, it—it is treason.” He could see Changkyun regaining his senses, the way that confused expression cleared away the longer he spoke. He took another deep breath and said, “This was a mistake.”

Changkyun’s face twisted into an expression of raw pain. “Don't say that, Kihyun,” he said. “Please.”

He reached out for him, but Kihyun stepped out of his reach and towards the door. “I am sorry,” he said and, gods, he meant it, he meant it with every ounce of his being. “I am so sorry. Please. Forget this.”

Changkyun took a deep shuddering breath, and bit his lower lip. Kihyun turned around and walked away before he could see any more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend is moving from one state to another and I tried to get this out so she'd have something to read on the flight, but unfortunately I was too late. Hope you still like it girl, this one's for you ♡


	9. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let treason be the one crime that cannot be pardoned, for no person is above the nation, not even the king.
> 
>  _Laws and Ordinances of the Nation_  
>  King Hakyeon, First and Founding King of Yishin

Kihyun was dreaming.

He was standing in a field, a flat expanse that stretched out to the horizon. The grass underfoot was a vivid green, the color almost painfully pure. The blue sky stretched across his vision, unbroken by neither the sun nor a single cloud. It looked close overhead, like Kihyun could reach out a hand and touch it. He tried it, but it moved out of reach.

Something made him lower his head, and in front of him was Changkyun. His warm brown skin contrasted beautifully against the vibrant green. He was saying something, but Kihyun could not hear him. He could only watch as Changkyun’s lips formed the words, unable to catch them no matter how he tried. The younger man’s expression was blank as he often kept it, but this time Kihyun could not see the emotions he tried to hide in his eyes. All he saw was empty blackness.

Kihyun woke up. He was laying in bed, and the window was open, allowing the bright sun to dance in. It looked to be late morning. He sighed as he got up and tugged on the bellpull. He would not be going back to sleep.

His thoughts wandered as he washed and got dressed. That had not been his first dream about Changkyun. He had had three since the incident over a week ago. Changkyun was silent in all of them, either refusing to speak or speaking only empty silence. Kihyun could remember each one, down to the most minute of details. 

He had not spoken to Changkyun since that night. The Fourth Consort had tried the day after, accosting him after dinner, and Kihyun turned the scene over in his mind.

Changkyun had looked calm, but it was a deceptive calmness, features flat but eyes stormy. “You really will not speak to me about it, Consort?” he had asked, long fingers twisted around Kihyun's sleeve but not holding it. 

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Kihyun had said, trying to keep calm, but Minhyuk and Hyungwon had been talking to each other only a few steps away, and his eyes had flicked to them again and again, all the while praying they did not overhear. He pulled his hand away. “I will be retiring to bed,” he said. “You look tired, Changkyun. I suggest you do the same.”

The look Changkyun had given him had been loaded with emotion. One brief stare, and then the youngest consort had turned and walked away. Since then Changkyun had not sought him out, and Kihyun was grateful. The less they mentioned it, the quicker it would fade out of existence.

After washing and dressing Kihyun went to the dining room, where he found breakfast laid out for two people. He sat down, and a few minutes later Hyungwon entered and sat opposite.

“Good morning,” said Kihyun as Hyungwon rubbed at his eyes. “Only us two today?”

“Minhyuk and Hoseok are having breakfast together in bed,” said Hyungwon, shaking his sleeves back. “Changkyun said he would be eating alone.”

Kihyun simply nodded, feeling an ache settle in his chest. Changkyun had started taking his meals alone, going to bed early, and generally spending as much time alone as he could. Kihyun could not fool himself into thinking he did not know why. Changkyun was hurting, and he was hiding away, drowning himself in his pain.

And Kihyun could understand that. He could feel it himself, the regret that sat heavy on him, the sharp cruelty of his own words. He could still feel the taste of Changkyun on his tongue, the touch of his fingers on his neck, in his hair, around his waist. The fire inside him that had burned when they were together was still there, banked but ready to light at the smallest spark.

He understood, but there was no other way. Consortship was a title until death. They would overcome the pain eventually.

“He’s been distant recently,” said Hyungwon.

“Who, Changkyun?” asked Kihyun. “You know he rather enjoys being alone.”

“I know, but he is not usually like this,” said Hyungwon with a frown. “He seems… sad.”

Kihyun said nothing. The change in Changkyun’s demeanor was too obvious to deny.

“Ever since the reading,” said Hyungwon. “I spoke to him about it the day after, and even then I could sense something was wrong.”

“What did he say?” asked Kihyun, trying to look not too curious.

“He apologized to me,” said Hyungwon. “He told me reading the future made him uncomfortable, which I can understand, and so he tried to feign ignorance. I accepted the apology, and apologized to him in turn.” He frowned, dropping his gaze to his plate. “Could he be upset over what I said to him? He brushed off my apology as unnecessary but I must’ve hurt him.”

Kihyun wanted to laugh. Hyungwon was worrying about hurting Changkyun when Kihyun had done everything but literally rip his heart out of his chest and crush it. “I do not think so,” he said. “You were obviously ruffled from the reading, moreover he upset you by interrupting. I am sure he knows you said things you did not mean.”

Hyungwon looked up, a sad smile on his face. “And if I did mean all I said?”

A silence fell over the table. It was true, though Kihyun did not like to admit it now. He and Hyungwon had been vehemently opposed to Changkyun’s induction as consort—Changkyun had been aware of it and had said so himself. Kihyun wished now more than ever the king had not made Changkyun a consort.

The air tasted heavy and bitter, and Kihyun moved to change the subject. “You seemed quite affected by your cards,” he said.

“Yes, I was surprised,” said Hyungwon, piling side dishes into his rice bowl. He ate a mouthful, and Kihyun shook his head disapprovingly but could not help but smile. No matter how long he had been consort, Hyungwon still ate the same as ever, opening his mouth wide to take in as much food as he could.

“Why? Expected something different?” asked Kihyun, half-joking. One of Hyungwon’s favorite things to say regarding the vei was that it could never be predicted.

Hyungwon swallowed. “Yes, actually,” he said. “I conduct readings for myself at random times. I always receive the same cards.”

“Since when?” asked Kihyun, surprised.

“Since always,” said Hyungwon with a shrug. “Because I am a reader, the cards are always related to what is at the forefront of my thoughts. It is always the same few cards in rotation.”

Kihyun thought back to that fateful day. Hyungwon had been unsurprised at the appearance of Envy, his first card. It was the second that had shaken him. Seven of Rings was not an especially rare card, and as far as Kihyun knew was not any more significant than the other numbered cards.

“The cards I received are very common for me,” continued Hyungwon, poking at a side dish.

“You seemed surprised to see them though,” said Kihyun.

“They looked different that time,” said Hyungwon.

He did not elaborate, and Kihyun knew better than to ask. If Hyungwon had wanted to tell him, he would have. Just as if Kihyun had wanted to tell Hyungwon what his last card was, he would have.

A thread of disquiet slipped into his gut. Six of Flowers meant romantic happiness. Happiness. At the time Kihyun had been too concerned with the romantic aspect of the card. Now he pondered over the other half of the card's meaning. This same card had come up in the king's reading, that day so long ago when he had taken Changkyun as consort. Were they related, Kihyun's romance and Hoseok's? Had Hoseok's card been a foreshadowing of Kihyun's? Or was Kihyun’s a reference to Hoseok’s?

He did not know. He did not want to know. There would be no romantic happiness in Kihyun's future. That, he knew, and he prayed Changkyun would soon.

The silence stretched uncomfortably long, and so Kihyun asked, “Where is the prince?”

“Prince Jooheon? Breakfasting with Sojung and Hyunwoo,” answered Hyungwon, picking up a piece of salted fish.

“Hyunwoo?” Kihyun frowned. “He is not with His Majesty?”

“Hoseok asked him to eat with Jooheon,” said Hyungwon. “Perhaps he wants to show the prince how safe he feels. Perhaps he wants to spare him from having to see him and Minhyuk feed and kiss each other sloppily. Either way I think it's a good idea, and I am happy for the commandant. He enjoys the Eigakese prince's company.”

“Prince Jooheon,” said Kihyun.

“Yes, I know his name,” said Hyungwon with a look.

“You referred to him without title,” said Kihyun. “He is Prince Jooheon.”

There was a long moment where the two consorts blinked at each other. Then Hyungwon said shortly, “No I did not, you heard wrongly.”

“You said it, Consort,” said Kihyun, not even fighting his grin. “You called him Jooheon.”

“I did not,” snapped Hyungwon, and dug into his food with single-minded concentration.

Kihyun laughed, feeling much better than he did before. They bickered all the time, but that was only natural. They were family after all.

Consortship was his life, the one he was used to, the one he loved. He would not give it up for anything in the world. One day Changkyun would understand, and feel the same. Kihyun was sure of it, and all he could do was wait.

Inside, the fire sat dormant underneath the coals.

 

The table was as full as it had ever been. At the head sat the king of Yishin. On either side were seated his consorts.

Kihyun, as First Consort, had the seat of highest honor, by the king’s right hand. Opposite him was Minhyuk, beside him Hyungwon. On Minhyuk’s left was Changkyun.

The Fourth Consort looked ill. He kept his head down, eyes fixed on the food he pushed around his bowl. He had been avoiding meals with the others, eating either alone or when Prince Jooheon asked for his company. He would have skipped this one as well, but Hoseok had especially requested his presence, and it was well known a request from the king was not truly a request.

Silence presided over the meal, interrupted only by the clicking of chopsticks. Kihyun did not move to start a conversation. He did not think it would be a good idea. Changkyun was calm now but his personality was unpredictable; the last thing Kihyun wanted to do was set off an outburst.

That one night had been enough to convict both of them of treason. All Kihyun could do now was put it behind him and pray it never came to light.

“You seem pensive,” said Minhyuk without warning, breaking the silence. He laid a hand on Hoseok’s arm. “Is anything on your mind?”

He was concerned about Changkyun, they all knew. His eyes even flicked to the youngest consort a moment, but he answered, “Yes, I was thinking about the plans to educate the public.”

Kihyun breathed a silent sigh of relief. Continuously prodding Changkyun was dangerous.

“Minister Min was right, we do not have the resources to set up so many schools,” continued Hoseok. “The treasury is already tight as it is with the border posts planned, we cannot afford building and staffing them. But if we do not, we will have hardly any new examination candidates, so what would be the point?”

“If relations with Eigak improve, we will not need so many border posts,” pointed out Kihyun.

“Maybe we can finally mark out a damned border,” muttered Hyungwon under his breath.

“We will when we can finally decide on one,” said Hoseok.

“Jooheon seems keen on improving relations,” said Minhyuk. “We can take money out of the posts’ budget.”

“It cannot be done so quickly,” said Hoseok. “Jooheon will most likely not take the throne for a few years at least, moreover his court is still divided. I cannot ask my court to vote on this when I have no guarantees from his side.”

He was right, of course. Silence again fell as they considered this. Kihyun’s gaze moved of its own will to Changkyun, and he forced it away. He looked instead at Hyungwon, who chewed the end of his chopsticks musingly.

“What is on your mind?” asked Kihyun.

“I was thinking,” said Hyungwon, taking the chopsticks out from between his thick lips. He put them down and asked, “Hoseok, do you remember the dance troupe I was with?”

The silence that followed was stiff and tense. Kihyun could almost feel the chill emanating from the king beside him. On the other side of the table Changkyun raised his head, picking up on the change in the atmosphere.

“Yes, my love, I do,” said Hoseok evenly.

“We would tour the same towns and villages, passing through them every year or so,” said Hyungwon. “I remember our musicians had to compose new songs, and I had to choreograph new routines every cycle. Even if they had not watched us for many moons, even years, the people remembered.”

“I do not see why we need to talk about this,” said Hoseok. His voice was calm, but Kihyun could see the tightness in the muscles of his neck.

Changkyun leaned over to Minhyuk, whispered something in his ear. A question, undoubtedly. Kihyun could read Minhyuk’s lips as he promised to tell him later. Only Hyungwon could mention the troupe in front of the king and get away with it.

“We could do the same, but with teaching letters,” said Hyungwon patiently, obviously picking up on the king’s displeasure. “Instead of setting up schools we could employ teachers who would go from village to village, teaching people how to read and write. Like minstrels, or, yes, dance troupes.”

It was not a bad idea. Kihyun was surprised no one had thought of it before, but remembered that everyone else present at court convenings had lived comfortable, stable lives very different from Hyungwon's. Hoseok nodded as he considered it.

“How long would the teachers stay in each village?” asked Kihyun. “And if more people wish to learn after they've already left? What then?”

“That's the beauty of reading, First Consort,” said Hyungwon with a smile. “Any person can teach others. You do not need a talent for it. People will teach their neighbors, their friends. Once people learn about the advantages of learning it will spread naturally, even without fixed schools. The teachers would work in cycles too, touring the countryside every few months or year.”

“We could leave supplies in village halls,” mused Minhyuk. “Ink to start with, paper if we can make it more cheaply.”

“But it would only be a temporary solution until we can build the schools,” said Hoseok. “I want to make education a priority in the coming years.”

“Of course,” agreed Kihyun. He regarded the Third Consort, impressed as ever by his intelligence. “It is a good idea. The court will be receptive to it too.”

“It will certainly save a lot of money,” said Minhyuk with a smile. “And what has the court ever wanted beyond that?”

Hoseok smiled. “We will bring it up at the next meeting,” he said. He turned to Hyungwon and said, “That was brilliant. What would I have ever done without you?”

“Floundered, obviously,” said the Third Consort, making the king laugh. Kihyun was just glad they did not kiss. He was sat between them and did not want to witness that so closely.

“I have been blessed with the greatest consorts,” said Hoseok, still smiling. “Do you not agree, Changkyun?”

The Fourth Consort started at being directly addressed. “Yes,” he said, looking up briefly before going back to his food.

The king frowned. “Are you alright, Changkyun?” he asked. “You have been distant. Did anything happen?”

Changkyun looked up and locked eyes with Kihyun. Kihyun’s heart thudded in his ribcage, ready to rip free. But Changkyun looked away, and said, “No, Your Majesty.”

“You can tell me if anything is bothering you,” said the king. “Whatever it is, we can make it right.” Minhyuk placed a comforting hand on the youngest consort’s shoulder, nodded in agreement.

“It is nothing,” said Changkyun. He swallowed. “I am feeling a bit unwell. Please excuse me, I would like to go to bed.”

Kihyun waited with baited breath. Hoseok looked conflicted, undecided between pressing for answers or letting him go, but finally he sighed in defeat. “You may go,” he said.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Changkyun. He rose, bowed, and said, “Goodnight, my king. My fellow consorts.” He turned and left without looking any of them in the eye.

He left silence in his wake, which Minhyuk eventually broke. “Something is bothering him,” he said.

“I have noticed,” said the king, forehead creased. He turned to Kihyun. “Go talk to him.”

“I?” Kihyun felt panic claw up his throat, and forced it down. The king did not know. He could not. No one had seen them.

“You are closest to him,” said Hoseok. “If you spoke to him alone, he might tell you.”

“I think it would be better if we let him alone,” said Kihyun carefully. “He might appreciate being given space.”

“That's what we've done so far,” said Hyungwon. “Maybe it is time we be more direct.”

Kihyun would have protested further, but thought better of it. If Changkyun cracked and spilled the truth to someone else, it would be disaster. Gossip spread like disease in the royal household and court. Failure to report treason was a capital crime.

“Very well,” said the First Consort, putting down his chopsticks. “I still feel this is the wrong step, but I will do as asked.”

“Thank you,” said Hoseok. “Now go, quickly.”

Kihyun rose and bowed, and then left the room trailed by his attendants. Changkyun’s rooms were at the far end of the sprawling palace, and Kihyun felt unease rise in his gut as he made his way. He remembered what had happened the last time he had walked these hallways.

He was admitted into his rooms without hesitation, by the same young man who had tried to stop him that night. Kihyun nodded and smiled at him, apologetic, and then bid his servants wait for him while he entered alone.

The fresh, delicate scent of herbs filled the air. The garden at the centre of the open-walled paths was filled with herb bushes, the leaves almost black in the night. The door to the second room was open, golden light bleeding out from inside. Kihyun took a breath to calm himself, and walked up to it.

It was empty. Candles had been lit, but the room had no one inside. Kihyun’s eyes fell on the door almost hidden in one corner of the room, and after a moment's hesitation, he entered and opened it. The hallway beyond was dark, closed on either side. Kihyun groped down it until he found the first door. It was unlocked. He opened it, entered.

Changkyun sat in one corner of the room, cross-legged on an unfurled bedroll. He looked shocked to see Kihyun, but quickly recovered, his calm mask again falling into place.

“You hardly ate anything,” said Kihyun, closing the door behind him. He kept his voice gentle, even, but not too friendly.

“What do you want?” asked Changkyun tersely.

“The king is worried about you,” said Kihyun. “He sent me to find out what is upsetting you.”

“You do not know?” asked Changkyun. He dropped the mask. He was angry.

Kihyun gave up. “Changkyun, please,” he said. “You have to stop. You know that.”

“Stop what? I don’t know anything,” said Changkyun almost petulantly.

“Stop being a child,” said Kihyun, feeling his patience rubbing away. “The others have noticed and there is nothing that can come from this. Stop pretending otherwise.”

Changkyun jumped up and walked towards Kihyun. Instinctively Kihyun took a step backwards.

“Why do you step back, Consort?” asked Changkyun, voice deep with an anger that was almost malicious. “You are scared of me? Why? I thought it was nothing—”

“It _is_ nothing,” cut off Kihyun. He took a deep breath, but the heat, the anger, bubbled at the surface of his skin. “It is nothing, you know that,” he said. “You must forget it. I already have.” A lie.

“You're lying,” said Changkyun, and the malice was gone. Only hurt, only anger. “You're lying to me. You have to be lying to me—”

“I am not,” said Kihyun, voice steady. Another lie.

“Then why?” Changkyun stepped closer, and this time Kihyun did not move. He was close enough to see the glassy sheen in his eyes. “Why did you kiss me?”

 _Because I was weak._ “Frustration,” said Kihyun. “You know I—the king does not sleep with me often. I was worked up, and you were handsome and wanted me. It was an outlet.”

Changkyun’s face twisted in agony. He chewed into his bottom lip, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Kihyun forced himself to keep his expression steady, maintain eye-contact. He had to do this. For himself. For Changkyun. Inside the fire burned wet, and smoke filled him up, ready to choke him.

After what felt like an eternity Changkyun turned away, staggering back towards his bed. Kihyun waited, but he did not sit down, simply stood in front of it, facing the wall.

The First Consort took in a long, deep breath, and then said, “I am sorry. I know you are hurt—”

“You know,” murmured Changkyun, and Kihyun felt his resolve stutter.

“But you must stop this,” he continued, gathering himself once more. “The others have noticed, and they are asking questions. You must learn to hide it.”

“Hide it?” Changkyun whirled on him. “Pretend everything is fine? When you gave me a taste of all that I can never have, when it meant nothing to you but everything to me? And I should pretend I am alright?”

He was taking deep, heavy breaths, eyes wide and still wet. Kihyun could only watch, heart screaming at him to reach out and comfort him. He could not. He had hurt him so much already, and he would have to hurt him even more.

“Please,” said Kihyun. “For me. Please, Changkyun.”

It was cruel. He knew that. But he also knew Changkyun would do anything for him, and he needed him to do this. Logical explanations would not work now, not when Changkyun’s emotions were wound so tightly. He needed this to stop. For the both of them.

Changkyun stared at him in disbelief. Kihyun waited, forcing his expression into one of calmness, not breaking eye-contact.

Finally, after too many painful seconds, Changkyun looked away, turning his back to him. “Fine,” he said, voice heavy. “I will try. Please leave.”

“Thank you,” said Kihyun. He hesitated in front of the door, another apology on his tongue, but he swallowed it down and left.

He was surprised to find Minhyuk waiting for him at the entrance to Changkyun’s rooms. “Well?” asked the Second Consort, joining him down the hallway. “Did he say what was bothering him?”

“No,” lied Kihyun. “He assured me it was nothing any of us did, he just needed some time alone. He says he will be fine soon.”

“I am still a little worried,” said Minhyuk with a frown. “He says he’s alright, but he’s seemed so sad recently. I care for him deeply, you know. I hope he will be alright.”

Kihyun swallowed. “Me too.”


	10. Dagger to the Throat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the third year, when the war was at its peak, the Eigak royal court revolted and threw down King Geonshik from the throne. He and his family were murdered in the throne room, after a farcical trial in which the ministers and courtiers laid the blame for Eigak's military losses and widespread famine at their feet. The bodies were dumped into the Myeol River, and were never recovered.  
>  The prime minister at the time was crowned king, and thus began the reign of King Jinyeol, the first of monarchs from the family Lee. He would lead Eigak into even more misery…
> 
>  _The Third Yishin-Eigak War: events leading to, during, and after_  
>  Historian Cho Kyuhyun

“Your Highness.”

Jooheon nodded and smiled at the messenger, taking the scroll with a quick word of gratitude. The smile dropped off his face as he read through its contents.

“News from home,” he said, before Sojung could ask.

“Not good?” she asked.

Jooheon chuckled and looked at her. “When is it ever?”

The two of them were alone as Jooheon had his breakfast. Sojung sat beside the table laid with dishes, sword unsheathed and ready in case of attack. She knew the prince did not like that she could not eat with him, but she had no choice, and especially not in a foreign land. The taster had already done his job and left—another necessary precaution Jooheon did not like.

“What is it this time?” asked Sojung, setting aside the whetstone. She had been sharpening the blade, more out of practice than necessity.

“The usual,” said Jooheon with a sigh. “More arguments in the court. More lines redrawn. Minister Tang has switched over to Lord Shin’s side and now pushes for aggression against Yishin. His joining pushed Minister Jung back to ours.”

Sojung sighed but did not comment. The Eigakese court was a turbulent thing, with alliances drawn and redrawn almost every day. Fights broke out over every aspect of the country’s governance. At present, the most important issue was Eigak’s relations with Yishin.

The queen pushed for mending relations. And so, naturally, the ministers pushed for breaking them.

“Ah, yes, there was also an assassination attempt,” added Jooheon, almost as an afterthought. “On Dawon.”

“Oh dear,” said Sojung with a frown. “Is everyone alright?”

“Yes, the assassin is in a stable condition,” said Jooheon. “Dawon was quite generous.”

“I told her not to court assassins,” said Sojung with a disapproving sigh. “And what does she do? She walks around outside the palace compound in open daylight, without an escort.”

“You know she does not need one,” said Jooheon, very obviously fighting the smile threatening to bloom on his face.

“She is baiting them, Jooheon,” said Sojung seriously. She did not see what was so funny. “The more she injures or kills, the fewer there are willing to join us! Hyunjung has already complained at the drop in new pledges. Jiyeon cannot train new assassins at the drop of a hat.”

“If they are foolish enough to attack Dawon they cannot be very capable,” said Jooheon. “In any case, we have more pressing matters than a ridiculously botched assassination attempt.”

“Minister Tang’s switching of sides?” Sojung raised an eyebrow. “He has resources, but he is too much of a coward to commit them to any cause.”

“Not Minister Tang, he is no threat,” said Jooheon. “Luda reports that one of Lord Shin’s messengers crossed the border recently.”

“Another one?” Sojung frowned. “We already ferreted out all of his agents that attempted to join our train. Who would he send a message to? Unless more have joined us?”

“I do not think we are carrying any of his rats,” said Jooheon, leaning back and scratching at his chin. “I suspect he has allies in Yishin.”

“In the court?” Sojung thought that unlikely. The Yishini court was surprisingly patriotic, and she could not see a link between one of its members and a foreign influencer.

Jooheon seemed to think the same. “No, not the court,” he said. “It is quite united in that aspect. Some spies, perhaps.”

“And are we the subject of interest, or Yishin itself?”

“We cannot yet know,” said Jooheon. “If Lord Shin is spying on Yishin, then he has plans to interfere in its affairs. That would be very detrimental to improving relations. What could I say to King Hoseok? One of the lords of my own country is meddling in his, and I cannot punish him for fear of repercussions?” He frowned, looked away. “How weak our country is to his, and still the court seeks war.”

Sojung tightened her grip on her sword, fighting the urge to reach out with a comforting touch. “Your mother is very patient,” she said instead.

“She is,” said Jooheon with a chuckle. “I can only hope to have half her patience.”

“You do,” said Sojung.

Jooheon smiled at her, eyes crescenting, dimples sinking into his cheeks. The smile disappeared as his mind moved onto the next serious matter. Sojung was used to seeing the change on her prince’s face, but it still made an ache spread in her chest.

“It is possible they have been set only to report on my actions,” he said. As ever, he did not need to explain where he had picked up from, Sojung simply understood.

“Then they would have infiltrated the palace,” she pointed out. “Do you think King Hoseok would allow that?”

“It is possible,” said Jooheon. “I have noticed their security is not as tight as ours.”

“The effects of a peace lasting twenty-three generations,” mused Sojung.

“Difficult to fathom,” said Jooheon, flashing her a quick smile.

“Perhaps there are some disadvantages,” said Sojung.

“Only to living beside a country without it,” said Jooheon. “It will be difficult to ask Yishin for peace if our internal affairs start affecting theirs.”

“You believe Lord Shin will try it?” asked Sojung, frowning. “Surely he would not dare. That could incite open war.”

“In any case, I will ask Hyunjung to look into it,” said Jooheon. “And perhaps Dawon too.” He raised an eyebrow at Sojung. “Did you notice the cards King Hoseok’s consorts play with?”

“Six energies, six masters,” said Sojung. “How could I miss the similarities?”

“Rather more practical than the beads, I think,” said Jooheon. “But more dangerous, perhaps, the way they handle them so flippantly.”

“Things are different here, you know that,” Sojung reminded him. “Less free energy in the earth. The Third Consort would be formidable back in Eigak.”

“Then we should make a point not to invite Consort Hyungwon to Eigak,” said Jooheon, after a thoughtful pause.

Sojung snorted. “Ask King Hoseok to leave behind his favorite consort? _That_ would be open war, without a doubt.”

Jooheon laughed. “True,” he said. He smiled at Sojung, his smile of warmth and sunlight, and said, “Thank the gods I have you to keep my head on.”

Sojung smiled at her prince, and then returned to sharpening her blade.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

First Consort Kihyun was in his proper place, beside his king. He had a scroll unrolled in front of him, an entreaty from the head cook for a larger budget for the coming moon, but he could not focus. Hoseok sat to his left, Minhyuk sprawled over him as the two of them talked and giggled over petty matters. Sitting on the other side of Minhyuk, reading a book, was Changkyun.

The Fourth Consort was doing better at putting on a front since Kihyun had spoken to him. He ate with them, spoke normally, spent his time with the other consorts as he had before. To everyone else, he had returned to normal.

Credit for his apparent change in mood was given to Kihyun. The king had thanked him, very sincerely, and Kihyun had wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

But it had worked. Changkyun acted normal, even when around Kihyun. Even now, as they sat in the same room, it was bearable. The younger consort read his book, pretending Kihyun was not present, and Kihyun got by.

He still glanced at Changkyun when he could. It was impossible not to. The mint green robes he wore draped gracefully over his slight figure, the snow white detailing at the sleeves somehow accentuating the shape of his hands. His fingers clasped the book lightly, occasionally moving to turn a page.

A foot jabbed into Kihyun, catching him off-guard and nearly toppling him from the cushion. He caught himself just in time, and then turned a glare on the king.

“You were ignoring me,” said Hoseok innocently, while Minhyuk howled in laughter.

“I was working,” said Kihyun shortly. “You have more than one consort. Why do you not pester the Fourth?”

Hoseok directed a pout at Kihyun. “So hurtful,” he said. “I am not pestering you.”

Kihyun ignored him. He noticed Changkyun did not look away from his book, not even when he had been mentioned.

“Come, Kihyun, you cannot work all the time,” said Minhyuk. He turned to Changkyun. “Is that not so, Changkyun?”

Finally, _finally_ , Changkyun looked up and at Kihyun. Just for a moment, and then he looked at Minhyuk. “Well, the First Consort might enjoy it,” he said. “If anyone is boring enough to enjoy looking through figures, it is him.”

It was a good quip, and Kihyun played his part, frowning as he was expected to. Changkyun grinned as Minhyuk laughed, but it did not reach his eyes.

“And what of you, youngest?” asked Hoseok. “Will you not indulge your king?” He opened his arms in invitation, leaving Minhyuk to curl up against his chest.

“No,” said Changkyun, sticking his tongue out. Hoseok laughed in disbelief and adoration.

“See, Your Majesty? You are not easy to be around,” said Kihyun teasingly. “Even Hyunwoo has finally managed to escape.”

“Uncalled for,” said the king, aiming another kick at Kihyun.

Hyunwoo and Hyungwon were with Prince Jooheon, having joined him after the midday meal. Kihyun jested about it, but he found that he quite missed Hyunwoo’s steady presence. The commandant had been more talkative as of late. Kihyun liked to believe he had effected the change by initiating friendship, but more likely it was the credit of the Eigakese prince. Jooheon truly could make friends with anyone.

“They are entertaining my guest,” sniffed Hoseok. “At my request.”

“They escaped,” said Kihyun. The king could be so easy to rile up, it was amusing. “Even now Hyungwon is off laughing and enjoying his time with Prince Jooheon.”

That was the winner. “Alright, that is enough,” said the king, moving to get up. “I am calling Hyungwon and Hyunwoo back to my side.”

“No you are not,” said Minhyuk, forcing him back down. “You are going to sit here with me. If you want to do something useful, send Kihyun away to Jooheon too.”

“Well, that feels slightly hurtful,” said Kihyun, tilting his head.

“Did it? Good.”

“Lee Minhyuk—”

Minhyuk gave a very loud, very fake gasp. “I am a consort, Consort Kihyun! I forfeit my last name when I took my title! How very dare you!”

Kihyun took a deep breath. “ _Consort_ Minhyuk—”

“How would you like it if I went around using your family name?” said Minhyuk in faux indignation. “I am very offended, Consort. Very offended indeed.”

“I did not say anything offensive,” said Kihyun, and he tried to be stern, but he could not fight the laugh bubbling up his chest.

“Well, you watch your words, Consort,” said Minhyuk, wagging a finger at Kihyun.

“Yes, yes, I concede, I was wrong,” said Kihyun, doubling over in laughter.

Minhyuk sniffed, and then broke out into a wide smile. Hoseok pulled him close and showered him in kisses.

Like this, things almost felt normal. Kihyun could not fully ignore the way Changkyun’s laughter had no depth to it, the way his smile dipped ever so slightly whenever he realized Kihyun was looking at him. But these moments helped.

They helped Kihyun remember what his life was. What he had at stake. He was a consort, and it meant more than duty. It meant he had a family, people he loved more than anything. He had never been anything other than grateful for Hoseok’s offer of consortship. It was not a life free of worries, but it was one Kihyun would never dream of leaving.

Soon enough, he knew, Changkyun would feel the same.

He glanced at the Fourth Consort while Minhyuk called for sweets and cakes. Changkyun looked calm, relaxed. He was completely different from the last time Kihyun had spoken to him in private. He had been almost frantic then, his emotions like the waves of a stormy sea. Kihyun did not know how deep the calm he wore extended. It was not deep enough, not yet, but it would reach deeper.

With enough time, the calm could enter deep enough to quench the fire. Kihyun could wait until then.

He pulled his thoughts away as a servant came in, carrying a tray loaded with confections. Another set a table in front of the king, and then the first leaned forward to set the tray down. His hands shook as he carefully moved. Kihyun frowned in disapproval. What inexperienced servant—

It happened so fast Kihyun could barely register it. The tray hit the floor with a crash, the table was thrown against the wall. Minhyuk had his hand closed around the wrist of the servant, and in the man's hand gleamed a knife.

Realization hit Kihyun with force. The man was not a servant.

He was an assassin.

The attacker struggled to free himself, but Minhyuk held fast. He struck Minhyuk in the chest with his other hand, and then wrenched himself free and staggered backwards, putting distance between himself and the Second Consort.

In these few seconds Kihyun had stood up and moved, but he did not know when or why. He only knew he was but a few steps away from Minhyuk’s crouched, alert figure, the king now on his right. The Second Consort had armed himself, wielding the dagger all of them carried as tradition. Kihyun’s own felt heavy hidden in his robes, useless in his possession. Somebody had screamed, and he could feel it ringing in his ears, in time with the pounding of his heart.

Without warning, the assassin attacked. The blade swung a short arc, point ready to bury itself in Minhyuk’s chest. But the Second Consort was too quick. He parried the knife with his own blade, dipping and weaving around the attacker, until he was behind him and ready to slit his throat. The assassin whirled, blade flashing, and Minhyuk jumped backwards to avoid it. He quickly sidestepped, drawing the man further away from Kihyun and the person huddled at his back, still keeping a close distance.

In a sudden move Minhyuk pressed forward. The assassin raised a hand to defend himself, and Minhyuk’s dagger sliced into his forearm, sending the knife clattering to the floor. Minhyuk quickly kicked the weapon away and stepped back, expecting surrender.

Instead, the man attacked even more ferociously, now with nothing but his bare hands. Kihyun saw blood fly as Minhyuk slashed at him again, but the assassin pressed on, swinging with his fists, trying to reach Minhyuk’s throat. Minhyuk staggered backwards, sideways, trying to escape the furious, uncoordinated assault.

But somehow the assassin was prevailing. He had managed to grab Minhyuk’s dagger hand and held fast. Minhyuk fought off his attempts at choking him one-handed, unable to break his grip. He jabbed his elbow into the man’s face, once, twice, until the sky blue sleeve was stained red, but still he could not shake him off. Someone was holding onto Kihyun, gripping his arm in an unshakeable lock, keeping him from doing anything but watching in horror.

“Minhyuk!”

For a fraction of a second the Second Consort froze, and then he dropped to the floor.

A knife shot through the air and lodged itself in the assassin’s throat.

The force of the impact sent the man rocking back. Minhyuk prised the fingers off his hand and stood, watched as the now lifeless body fell to the floor, blood trickling past the blade of the knife.

Kihyun turned and saw Hoseok standing still, his dark eyes cold and hard in focused fury. The king was not shaking. His aim had been too accurate for that.

Hoseok walked up to Minhyuk and wrapped his arms around him, both of their gazes still fixed on the corpse on the floor. Kihyun stood where he was, frozen, taking in deep, shuddering breaths.

“Are you hurt?” asked Hoseok softly, still holding Minhyuk close.

“I am fine,” said Minhyuk, no jest, no lightness in his voice. “I am fine. Your Majesty?”

“I am fine, because of you,” said Hoseok, and he kissed Minhyuk gently on the forehead.

Kihyun’s heart was still thudding in his chest, but he could breathe now, he could think. He needed—he needed something, he needed to make sure, he needed—

Changkyun.

Now, slowly, Kihyun became aware. The grip on his arm, the body pressed to his back, the shaky breaths against the back of his neck.

He turned slowly, found Changkyun staring at him, eyes wide. And then Changkyun grabbed him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

He was shaking. Without thinking Kihyun put his arms around him, holding him close, running his hands down his back.

“I was so scared,” whispered Changkyun against his neck. “I was—I thought—”

“I know,” said Kihyun soothingly, stroking his hair. “It is alright now. It is over. You are safe.” _You are, you are, thank the gods._

Changkyun tightened his grip in Kihyun’s robes. “I thought you were going to die,” he whispered.

“I am here,” said Kihyun without a second thought. “I am here. I am here, Changkyun. I am here with you. We are alright.”

He could feel Changkyun breathing against him, the shuddering rise and fall of his chest. He felt him nod against his neck, a small, timid movement. Kihyun closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep the moment from overwhelming him.

Slowly, he let go of Changkyun. Changkyun took another deep breath pressed against Kihyun’s chest, and then he pulled away. The two of them exchanged one look, and then it was over.

Kihyun turned his attention back to Hoseok and Minhyuk. They had not even noticed him and Changkyun. The king was crouched down over the bleeding corpse, inspecting the knife and wound. Minhyuk was examining his robes, slashed in the front and spattered with blood.

“Are you alright?” asked Kihyun, walking over to Minhyuk’s side.

“I am physically fine, but very upset,” said Minhyuk, returned to his usual mood. “These robes were a favorite. Now look at them! I shall have to buy a new set.”

“Thank you,” said Kihyun, taking Minhyuk’s hand and squeezing it. “You saved us.”

Minhyuk smiled at him and nodded. Then he turned to Changkyun, worried, asking, “Are you alright, Changkyun? That must have been awful.” He raised an arm in invitation, and Changkyun obediently went to him, slotting in against his side.

“I am alright,” said the youngest consort. “Thank you, Consort.” Minhyuk nodded and kissed the top of Changkyun’s head, an innocent gesture of fondness.

Hoseok finally rose and faced his consorts. “Are all of you alright?” he asked, face set in serious lines.

“Nobody has been injured, though I will admit to a fright,” said Kihyun. Changkyun nodded in agreement.

The king nodded, and then turned to the servants huddled in a corner of the room. “I need one of you to carry a message to the prince of Eigak’s party,” he said, voice stern but not angry. “This is important. Can any of you manage?”

There was some hesitation, but eventually a young woman stepped forward, looking more put-together than the others.

“Tell the commandant and Third Consort of what has happened,” said the king. “I wish to see the both of them. The commandant is not to leave Hyungwon’s side. I will not have him unprotected. Do not tell anyone else of the attack—not even one word, is that understood? If whispers of this spread, I will not be pleased.”

The servant bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty. Will that be all?” she asked.

Hoseok paused. “And tell Jooheon I want to talk to him,” he said.

 

In the stillness of his bedroom, Kihyun sat and waited.

Dusk had settled into evening, and candles had been lit. The consort’s usual coterie of servants was present, along with a few newcomers. Hoseok had ordered the consorts to move with an armed escort, and Kihyun had been assigned two house guards he knew well enough. Jaesoom was inexperienced, but she had boundless energy and great skill with sword. Donghyuk was one of Hyunwoo’s favored students, considered by the commandant to be the most capable after himself.

Kihyun knew Hyunwoo blamed himself. He had not been able to look Minhyuk in the eye as he expressed his gratitude, despite the Second Consort’s repeated insistence it was not his fault. Kihyun understood why he would feel guilty, even though Minhyuk was right. Hyunwoo could not have predicted such a brazen assassination attempt. None of them could.

The king had called an emergency court meeting for the next day, in which he would inform the ministers of the attack. Until then, the news was being kept a secret. Hoseok did not want panic to spread, though it undoubtedly would. Yishin’s royal family had been on the throne for twenty-three generations, and there had been no attempts on their lives for the past six.

Hoseok had called the prince of Eigak for a meeting, a private one in which only the royals and their personal guards had been allowed. It had been long, going on for hours without break. Kihyun had sat with his fellow consorts the entire time. News of the attempt had shaken Hyungwon badly, perhaps because he had been the only consort not present. Minhyuk insisted they had not been in any real danger and that the assassin was hardly trained, and Hyungwon had nodded along silently, gripping Kihyun’s hand so hard he feared his fingers would break. When Hoseok had finally emerged with the sun touching the horizon, Hyungwon had run to him without a moment’s hesitation, and Hoseok had scooped him up in his arms and carried him away. Neither had been seen since.

The other consorts ate together, shadowed by their new guards. Afterwards Minhyuk had gone to his rooms to paint, first giving Kihyun and Changkyun tight hugs. Changkyun had given Kihyun a long look, face blank but eyes heavy with emotion, and then he too left for his own chambers.

And now Kihyun sat in his bedroom, waiting.

There was a tap on the doorframe, and both Donghyuk and Jaesoom straightened. It was unlikely there would be another assassination attempt so soon, but Kihyun admired their diligence. “Enter,” he called out.

The door slid open and a servant entered. Kihyun recognized him at once. He had yelled at him once, on a fateful night that felt so long ago.

“First Consort, the Fourth Consort begs your presence,” said the young man, bowing low.

“Let him know I am on my way,” said Kihyun. The servant bowed once more, and then turned and left.

The First Consort took a deep breath, and then rose. “I believe just one will be enough,” he said, as both Donghyuk and Jaesoom moved forward. The two had a silent conversation, and then Donghyuk stepped back.

Jaesoom followed Kihyun silently as he walked to Changkyun’s rooms. The young man who had delivered the message stood at the entrance, and he bowed as Kihyun approached. Kihyun nodded in turn and entered. Only one room beyond was illuminated, the door open. The consort entered without hesitation.

Changkyun was waiting for him. He was sitting down, still in the mint green robes he had been wearing when the assassin had attacked. He stood up as Kihyun entered, but he did not smile. He simply looked.

“Consort, would it be alright if I spoke to you in private?” he asked.

As Kihyun had expected. “Of course,” he answered. He turned to Jaesoom and said, “You may go.”

The guard hesitated. “I am not to leave you alone, Consort.”

“Not even with Consort Changkyun?” Kihyun smiled reassuringly. “We will be alright. You may stand at the entrance to the Fourth Consort’s rooms. After all, there is no other entrance, is there?”

Jaesoom still looked uncertain, but Kihyun would not stand down, and eventually she had to give in. Changkyun’s own personal guard understood as well, and bowed with Jaesoom before the two young women left together.

Leaving Kihyun alone with Changkyun. The silence stretched, but it was not uncomfortable, merely patient. Finally, Kihyun asked, “Are you alright?”

“I was shaken, but I am fine,” answered Changkyun. He paused, and then added, “Because of you. Thank you, Consort.”

“I did nothing,” said Kihyun, trying to forget the feeling of holding Changkyun in his arms, the way the younger had been shaking. He never wanted to feel that again.

“You comforted me when I needed it,” said Changkyun. “You shielded me from the attacker. I am alright because of you.”

Kihyun wanted to deny it, but it was the truth. He had stood in front of Changkyun, though he could not remember doing so. He could not remember thinking anything—his body had moved of its own accord. “You were holding onto me,” he said, and he did not know if it was an attempt to change the subject.

Changkyun broke eye-contact, looking almost embarrassed. “Please forgive me,” he said. “I was not thinking properly. I had the ridiculous idea you were going to try and help Consort Minhyuk, and get injured or—or worse.” He swallowed.

“It is alright,” said Kihyun. He was too ashamed to tell Changkyun that the thought of helping Minhyuk had not even entered his mind. He had blanked, all thoughts leaving him. He was First Consort, he had been needed, and he had been weak.

What if Hoseok had been injured? What if Changkyun had?

_What if Changkyun had—_

“I am sorry,” continued Changkyun, still not looking at Kihyun. “If it was cowardly of me, or heartless or selfish. I just—I was so _scared_.”

“We are all fine,” said Kihyun, careful. He kept his hands clenched behind his back, fighting the urge to embrace Changkyun again, hold him and comfort him.

“I thought I would lose you,” said Changkyun. He shook his head, and said, almost to himself, “I know I never had you, I know that, I know—”

“I understand,” said Kihyun quietly. He did not know if Changkyun even heard him.

“I cannot,” said Changkyun with sudden force, raising his head to look at Kihyun once more. “Please. Can we—can we return to how we once were? Please.”

“We already have,” said Kihyun, but the lie was difficult to get off his tongue.

“No, Consort, you know we have not,” said Changkyun, taking a step forward. “Please. I could not bear of the thought of—of our last conversation to be our _last_. You must understand.”

Kihyun did. That was what made it so dangerous. “Changkyun…”

“I swear, I will never—” Changkyun stopped, swallowed again. “I will never do what I did that night again,” he continued. “Never again, Consort Kihyun. I swear.” He took a deep breath, dark eyes earnest and longing. He had discarded his masks, all his emotions bare on his handsome face.

Thoughts whirled in Kihyun’s head. All he had seen, felt, realized since the Fourth Consort’s arrival. They came together, climbed up Kihyun’s throat, until he said—

“Yes.”

Confusion twisted Changkyun’s face, until he understood the meaning of Kihyun’s answer. The look of pure, joyful relief that spread on his face was so powerful Kihyun felt the foundations of his heart shake. The Fourth Consort had been desperate for this answer.

Kihyun should have refused. He knew that. Changkyun was emotional and wanted Kihyun as much as ever, and while he swore otherwise the older consort knew that eventually he would break down. It was more than dangerous, it was misery in waiting. Kihyun should have refused.

But what if? What if the assassin had managed to fend off Minhyuk, had attacked Changkyun? What if the last time Changkyun had ever truly spoken to Kihyun had been that night, when Kihyun had hurt him, lied to him, told him things meant nothing? What if Kihyun had never been able to speak to him again?

He could not live with the thought of it. And he knew it was foolish to allow Changkyun to come close, but Kihyun could bear that. What he could not bear was to lose him.

“Thank you,” said Changkyun. The smile he wore was happy, but muted almost, as though he were afraid to let his happiness show through too much. “I promise I will never do anything to make you regret this.”

Kihyun returned the smile weakly. “I believe you, which is why I agreed,” he said. He did not know which part of that was a lie.

“I can bear it, Consort,” said Changkyun, still so earnest, so sincere. “I only wish for things to be as they were before—before everything. For us to go back to that.”

Unable to reply, Kihyun just smiled and nodded.

“It is getting late, I am sure you would like to return to your rooms,” said Changkyun, after a short silence.

“Yes, it has been a long day,” said Kihyun. He moved towards the door, and Changkyun moved to accompany him. Kihyun allowed him.

Jaesoom straightened as Kihyun opened the door leading out of Changkyun’s chambers. He smiled at her, and then turned to Changkyun and said, “I will see you in the morning, then.”

“Yes, Consort,” said Changkyun politely. “Thank you for coming to see me. I appreciate it greatly.”

“Of course,” said Kihyun. He was First Consort, Changkyun was the Fourth, and they had an audience. This was how they should be. “Sleep well, Changkyun.”

The smile that touched Changkyun’s lips was genuine. “Sleep well, Consort,” he said.

And Kihyun turned and walked away. He folded his hands into his sleeves, and let the fingertips of his right hand graze against the secret pocket there. The light dagger inside felt heavier than ever before, a constant reminder of Kihyun’s flaws.

Changkyun thought they could go back to how they were before, but that was where he was wrong. There was nowhere to go back to. Kihyun knew that, and yet he still wanted him close.

He truly was nothing more than weak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASTRO released their new song [Always You](https://youtu.be/T1ozr79pcjo) and it is absolutely beautiful, please give it a listen and support my boys  
> Many apologies for the late chapter. Been rather drained recently. I hope to get the next one out quicker


	11. Enemies and Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no existence without struggle.
> 
>  _Musings on Philosophy_  
>  Kim Namjoon, Prime Minister to King Hoseok, 17th King of Yishin

The court was in uproar. Ministers were on their feet, waving fans and shaking fingers. Courtiers banged on the table, loudly yelling at each other. The hall was a storm of noise, voices melting together into an indecipherable cacophony.

On his throne, King Hoseok waited for the din to die down. When he was satisfied the courtiers had shouted off most of their emotions, he tapped the hard wooden handle of his chair.

The sound was lost in the noise. Kihyun, standing almost right beside the throne, did not hear it. But the action was not missed. The quiet spread through the hall, starting from nearest the throne, with ministers hushing colleagues and urging them back to their seats. In a few minutes the hall returned to its usual quietness.

“If we are all done,” said Hoseok calmly, “does anyone have any actual opinions?”

Courtiers exchanged looks, but none dared to speak. Even Jo Senmi, prime minister, sat silent. Kihyun looked at Yeon Hu and found the general sitting silent, face grave but giving away nothing. The silence stretched until finally a minister of the first circle rose.

“Your Majesty,” said Han Jehan with a bow. “From what I have heard of my colleagues’ conversations, most believe the crown prince of Eigak is involved in the attempt on your life.”

It was smart, careful language. Kihyun noticed Han Jehan did not include himself in accusing Prince Jooheon.

“Yes, I thought you might,” said Hoseok. “I, however, do not.”

Jo Senmi hesitated, and then rose. “Your Majesty, you must acknowledge the coincidences,” he said. “This is the first assassination attempt on a Yishini monarch in generations, and it occurred during the prince's unusually long stay?”

“If Jooheon were going to try and kill me, he would know better than to attempt it while he was in my palace,” said the king.

“The assassin was not very skilled, either,” spoke up Minhyuk. “Very determined, but not skilled. The commandant would have been able to overpower him easily.”

“Exactly so,” said Jo Senmi. “The assassin attacked when you were without your personal guard. How else would he know you were unguarded, if he were not communicating with the Eigakese?”

Kihyun glanced at Hyunwoo. The commandant’s face was blank, but Kihyun could detect the stiffness in his stance. Hyunwoo still blamed himself for the attack, despite the others’ repeated insistences it was not his fault.

“I was not unguarded, I had Consort Minhyuk,” said Hoseok levelly.

“With all due respect and gratitude, the Second Consort is not a trained protector,” said a minister of the second circle, rising. “You were vulnerable and the assassin knew it.”

“We do not know that,” said Kihyun. “It could have been nothing but luck. The king has often been without the commandant as of late.”

“Ridiculous,” said Jo Senmi. “What trained assassin would attack without information?”

“We have no evidence he was trained,” said Kihyun. “The Second Consort says he was not a skilled fighter. The weapon he used was a common, unmodified knife. If he were truly trained, he would have at least poisoned the blade.”

Jo Senmi had no response to that, and merely frowned. The second circle minister—Kim Raehwan, Kihyun remembered—however said, “The king of Yishin has no enemies, except Eigak. The attack could have been a feint.”

“Then the crown prince is a fool,” said Kihyun flatly. “A master assassin in that position might have killed us all. Now he has lost his chance.”

He was aware of Hyungwon shifting behind him, and regretted his choice of words. The incident had shaken the Third Consort badly.

“It could be a ploy of some sort, then,” insisted Kim Raehwan.

“Or it could perhaps not be Prince Jooheon,” said Minhyuk brightly. “King Hoseok believes it is not, and I believe _him_.”

That silenced Kim Raehwan. He bowed and took his seat.

“Your Majesty, do you have any suspicions on who might have arranged the attack?” asked Han Jehan. “And to what end? With the assassin being untrained, the objective could not have been to kill you. Sow panic, perhaps?”

“Seems likely,” said the king. “We cannot allow that to happen. The public must not learn of this.”

Han Jehan nodded. “I fear the common people would reach the nearest conclusion,” he said. “Public perception on Eigak has become rather positive after so many years; this could ruin it.”

Hoseok’s handsome face settled into a frown, an obvious indication he was thinking deeply, but something else had caught Kihyun’s attention. “You monitor public perception, minister?” he asked.

“Only on matters relating to Eigak, Consort,” answered Han Jehan without missing a beat. “My family is from a western province. It is a vital matter there.”

Kihyun nodded, but was not totally convinced. Han Jehan lived in the capital—surely it could not be so vital a matter he would monitor it even from the court? Kihyun decided to ask Changkyun about it later.

The Fourth Consort, as always, stood almost directly behind Kihyun and Minhyuk, keeping away from the court's eyes. He still attracted attention in his midnight blue and gray robes, but that was inevitable. He could not be ignored, not when he looked as he did. Kihyun kept himself firmly facing forward.

“If we have had enough of accusing the crown prince,” said Hoseok with a pointed look at Kim Raehwan, “does anyone have any suggestions on how to proceed?”

“We must conduct an investigation,” said Jo Senmi. “I propose establishing a separate committee to focus on it.”

“Then do so,” said the king. “I leave the creation and heading of this investigative committee to the prime minister. Prime Minister, you are given free reign. I suggest you work with Consort Minhyuk and his network of informants.”

Jo Senmi bowed to Minhyuk, who nodded his head in return. Minhyuk did not like the man, Kihyun knew, but he would work with him, especially when it concerned something so important.

“Any more questions regarding the investigation can be directed to our capable prime minister,” said the king. “I call this emergency court session over. Thank you.”

His tone left no room for argument. The gong was rung, and the king rose from his throne. He walked down the walkway dividing the hall in halves, Hyunwoo a step behind and the consorts following. Kihyun kept his expression calm as always, chin lifted. He was aware of Changkyun doing the same, and had to hide a pleased smile. The Fourth Consort was learning well.

Outside the hall, attendants were ready with parasols and fans. The consorts broke out of their formal formation, Hyungwon moving forward to walk by Hoseok’s side.

“Most of the courtiers suspect Jooheon,” mused Minhyuk. “I could see it on their faces.”

“As predicted,” said Kihyun. “Kim Raehwan was right. The king of Yishin has no enemies aside from Eigak.”

“A king always has enemies,” said Changkyun, so quietly only Kihyun heard. He did not press the Fourth Consort to repeat himself. He was right.

“Eigak is not only Jooheon,” said Hoseok. “That minister, the handsome one—”

“Han Jehan,” supplied Kihyun.

“Yes, him,” said Hoseok. “He brought up an interesting point, I thought. If word of this were to spread, it would turn people's hearts against Eigak. Force relations to sour.”

“You believe that was the intent of the assassin?” Kihyun raised an eyebrow. “It does make sense, particularly concerning the timing. An assassination attempt during the crown prince's stay? It is obvious who suspicion would fall on.”

“Jooheon confided to me there were elements in his country's court that were against strengthening relations,” said the king. “It is possible one of them sent the assassin, trusting him to fail. My death would mean chaos, after all.”

“Foreign lords interfering in our affairs,” said Kihyun, frowning.

“Unforgivable,” said Minhyuk with a shake of his head. “And yet retaliating would be exactly as they would want.”

“Not taking action makes us look weak,” said Kihyun. “We have been put into quite a situation. If the investigative committee traces the link back to Eigak, what are we to do?”

“Just as this Eigakese influence had faith in its assassin, I have faith in my prime minister,” said Hoseok with a smile. He looked past Kihyun’s shoulder, and said, “Yes, you may approach.”

A servant scurried forward, head down. “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” he said. “My master requests a word with the Second Consort.” He turned to Minhyuk and bowed again.

“Who is your master?” asked Minhyuk, but Kihyun thought he already knew. His suspicions were proved correct when he saw Han Jehan waiting a respectful distance away, hands folded in his sleeves.

“I will wait for you, Minhyuk,” said Kihyun, as Hoseok and Hyungwon left with most of the train. “You may go and speak with him.”

“I will wait with you, Consort,” said Changkyun, and somehow Kihyun was unsurprised. Minhyuk flashed them both a quick grin, and then went off to speak to Han Jehan, his many servants following.

“Are you alright?” asked Kihyun.

“I am fine,” said Changkyun, a small smile touching his lips. “You have asked me that enough times, I think.”

“It was a scary situation,” said Kihyun seriously. “Forgive me for being concerned for your wellbeing.”

“I am glad,” said Changkyun, still smiling, the expression soft on his face. “Are _you_ alright, Consort? It was also the first time you were in such a situation.”

“I am fine,” said Kihyun, and that was true. He had been shaken, but was now calm.

“Are you quite sure?” asked Changkyun, a cheeky smile spreading. “You were frozen like a statue, if I remember right. Completely made of plaster.”

Kihyun gave him a light shove as he laughed. “You were the one cowering behind me.”

“You were so stiff I was certain the blade would bounce off you,” said Changkyun.

“A very coherent thought from a cowering man,” shot back Kihyun.

Changkyun grinned at him, and Kihyun felt his heart swell in his chest. Changkyun’s smile was like sunlight—golden, cosmic, warm. It seeped through Kihyun’s skin.

This. This is what Kihyun had been missing, what he had needed. Changkyun smiling, smiling at him, smiling because of him.

The smile slowly faded into one more formal, and Kihyun turned to find the cause.

Minhyuk was approaching alongside Han Jehan, the Second Consort laughing. As they came up to the other consorts Han Jehan bowed, saying, “First Consort, Fourth Consort. It is an honor to speak with you once more.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Kihyun. He was used to obeisance and kind words, but Han Jehan took it to another level. Perhaps it was the sincerity he radiated, or the good looks, but the minister certainly made an impact.

“Minister Han was praising my quick actions,” said Minhyuk, smiling, and Kihyun was surprised to see that the smile looked genuine. “I was just telling him of your contribution.”

Kihyun shot Minhyuk a brief look. He did not like Minhyuk jesting with a minister, particularly one Kihyun was yet unsure of.

“It must have been terrifying,” said Han Jehan, radiating sympathy. “We are all relieved no one was hurt. I am glad to see you unrattled, Consort.”

He addressed this last bit to Changkyun directly, who politely replied, “Thank you, minister.”

“Yes, we are all very relieved,” said Kihyun, steering the conversation back and away from Changkyun. “All thanks go to Minhyuk, and His Majesty.”

“I had heard the Second Consort was very skilled with a blade,” said Han Jehan. “I see now it is true, though I wish he could have proved himself in other circumstances.”

“Are you good at sparring, minister?” asked Minhyuk. “I would not say no to a duel.”

“I am… passable,” said Han Jehan with a smile. “I am happy to accept, Consort. I could benefit from getting knocked to the ground a few times.”

Minhyuk laughed, and Kihyun joined in politely. He noticed Han Jehan’s change in strategy while dealing with the Second Consort. While he had simply flattered Kihyun and Changkyun, he acted friendly and casual with Minhyuk, perhaps because he thought Minhyuk had been flattered enough that it would no longer be effective. When Kihyun considered it that way he could not help but feel offended.

“Thank you for your time,” said Han Jehan. “Please excuse me, but I must be leaving. Second Consort, schedule the duel for whenever you are comfortable.”

“You might regret this later,” said Minhyuk with a grin.

“I am certain I will,” said Han Jehan, smiling. He bowed. “Consorts.”

Kihyun nodded in acknowledgment. The minister left, his few servants leaving with him.

“Well?” said Kihyun, when the minister had gone. “What did he want to talk to you about?”

“Just as I said,” said Minhyuk. “He wanted to thank me for protecting the king. He also wanted to know how I fought off the attacker.”

“And of course you obliged,” said Kihyun.

“Why would I not?” said Minhyuk. “He is a minister of the first circle asking meaningless details. I see nothing wrong with telling him.”

“And being overly friendly?” asked Kihyun. “Do you see anything wrong with that?”

“I am like this with everyone,” said Minhyuk. He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “What are you trying to insinuate, First Consort?”

“I do not trust that man,” said Kihyun flatly. “He is a flatterer.”

“They all are, with us,” said Minhyuk dismissively.

“He is more than,” insisted Kihyun. “I do not know what his intentions are, but they are not innocent.”

“He sent me books.”

Kihyun whipped his head around to look at Changkyun. “He did _what_?”

“I am creating my own small library,” said Changkyun. “I sent some servants out to procure books for me. Minister Han heard and had a few sent.”

Fire like Kihyun had never felt before flared inside him. “What kind of books?” he demanded. “Why did you not tell me of this sooner?”

“Normal books,” said Changkyun, unfazed. “Books on science, geography, history. I did not tell you because I did not think you wanted to hear it.”

The fire ebbed away in the face of Kihyun’s shame and regret. Han Jehan must have sent them during the time Kihyun had kept Changkyun at a distance. “I… I see,” he said, unable to say anything else.

“Do you want me to return them?” asked Changkyun.

“No, that—that will not be necessary,” said Kihyun. He adjusted his collar. “You may keep them. If you wish.”

Changkyun said nothing.

“Do you see, Kihyun?” said Minhyuk. “Han Jehan is a flatterer. It is obvious he is a flatterer. I see nothing wrong with enjoying his obviousness. There is nothing dangerous about him.”

Kihyun did not argue. In truth he was no longer thinking about it. Changkyun had received books from Han Jehan. Gifts, in a way. He had received gifts from that handsome young man with the midnight black hair and large hands, the man who had offered to write stories in praise of his beauty.

The thought of it left a bitter taste in Kihyun’s mouth.

“Now can we stop discussing a pointless matter?” asked Minhyuk, linking an arm with Kihyun’s. He linked the other to Changkyun’s. “Let us see if Hyungwon will finally let me paint his face. My heroics should have been enough to soften his heart, should they not?”

Kihyun glanced at Changkyun and found the younger consort looking at him. He turned away and let himself be pulled along, leaving his thoughts behind.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

“Your Majesty, your guest has arrived.”

“Send him in,” said Hoseok, straightening. He poked gently at Hyungwon’s head. “You need to get up,” he said.

“Later,” mumbled Hyungwon, lazily batting Hoseok’s hand away.

“The crown prince of Eigak is here to see me,” said Hoseok, grinning as he tried to push Hyungwon up.

“Then let him come, I’m not stopping him,” said Hyungwon, and rolled over onto his side.

“Give in, you know he will not get up,” called out Minhyuk from his nearby chair. The painting he was working on was almost complete, a portrait of Kihyun’s side profile set against a calming backdrop of cherry blossoms.

“What is the point of me having a study if I cannot entertain my guests in it?” asked Hoseok, carefully maneuvering Hyungwon’s head off his thigh.

“So that your consorts may enjoy it,” said Minhyuk with a cheeky smile. “Now you may go, I will take care of Hyungwon.”

It was said jokingly, but there was a bit of truth to it. Since the incident a few days ago Hyungwon had been quite sensitive, on edge. Kihyun was on a call to Yeon Hu and had taken Changkyun with him. With Hyunwoo now accompanying Hoseok everywhere, he was glad to leave someone with Hyungwon for awhile. Minhyuk had decided not to leave the royal compound for some time, at least until the furor surrounding the attack died down, and so he made the perfect option.

Hoseok still felt the painful pull of regret and shame whenever he looked at the Second Consort. Minhyuk had been first to realize the situation. He had fought the attacker while Hoseok had hesitated, too scared of hurting him to take any action. Hoseok should have been the one protecting his consorts, not the other way around.

He rose and left the room, Hyunwoo following like a shadow. Jooheon and Sojung approached from the other end of the hallway.

“King Hoseok, thank you for agreeing to see me,” said Jooheon, with a respectful bow of the head.

“Of course,” said Hoseok. “My study is currently occupied, so I hope you would not mind walking with me.”

“Not at all,” said Jooheon with a smile, but it was slightly strained. There was no crescenting of his eyes, rather a weariness and caution.

They walked side by side, trailed by their respective guards, neither speaking. As they approached a walled garden of dry stone and pebble, Jooheon finally said, “I am sorry.”

“There is nothing for you to be sorry for,” said Hoseok. He raised an eyebrow and said jokingly, “Unless you truly did send an assassin after me?”

“No, but I know you have been put in a difficult position because of me,” said Jooheon, serious. “For that I apologize.”

“So it would not surprise you to learn that most of my courtiers suspect you,” said Hoseok.

“I would be surprised if it were otherwise,” said Jooheon. “If the situation were reversed a large portion of our court would already be drafting war declarations.”

“Fortunately, my own court is not so hasty,” said Hoseok. “We are looking into the reasons for the attack. I believe whoever planned this wanted to damage relations between our countries.”

“It seems likely,” said Jooheon. “Forgive me, but I heard the assassin was not very skilled. It seems a ploy to seed chaos. I am the obvious suspect.”

“Yes, I do not think he intended to kill me,” said Hoseok. “He would have been satisfied with simply injuring Minhyuk.” He took a deep breath, banishing even the thought of it from his mind. “We are conducting an investigation into it,” he continued. “We will find the mastermind.”

Jooheon nodded, and then turned his attention to the fine sand and smooth pebbles by his feet.

Hoseok decided to press. “Is there anyone you suspect, Crown Prince?” he asked. “Someone perhaps in your court or country?”

“You are asking me about the Eigakese court, Your Majesty?” asked Jooheon, glancing at him. “That is an Eigakese affair, I think.”

“It is no longer an Eigakese affair when it affects Yishin,” said Hoseok calmly.

Jooheon said nothing. Hoseok could sense the increased tension, not only around Jooheon but around Sojung as well. It appeared she was just as aware of the political situation.

Hoseok felt for Jooheon. He could understand his reluctance, why he might feel he was betraying his country by sharing information not only with a foreigner but the king of their only rival nation. Hoseok did not want to press him like this. Jooheon was a lovely young man, and seemed genuinely good. But an assassin had attacked and Hoseok’s consorts had been in danger.

“Jooheon, you must understand,” said Hoseok, keeping his voice calm and even. “Kihyun and Changkyun were there. Minhyuk had to fight him. He could have died. Any of them could have.”

Jooheon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I may have a few guesses,” he said, and opened his eyes. “I have made enquiries back home. I cannot share anything until I am certain. When I hear back, you will be the first to know.”

“But you have someone you suspect,” said Hoseok.

“Yes,” said Jooheon, calm and without hesitation.

A name he was not willing to share. Hoseok let it go. Jooheon had promised him future cooperation for nothing in return, Hoseok could not ask for more.

“Thank you for understanding, Crown Prince,” he said.

“Thank you in turn,” said Jooheon. He paused. “I heard Consort Minhyuk overpowered the assassin in a few seconds, is that true?”

It was so unexpected Hoseok burst into a laugh. “Where did you hear that?”

“Consort Minhyuk has been telling everyone he crosses paths with,” said Jooheon, grinning. “So I am assuming it is not true.”

“I would not say it was a few seconds, exactly,” said Hoseok carefully. “Perhaps a bit more than a few.”

“I see,” said Jooheon, nodding. “You fear Consort Minhyuk’s reaction if he hears you are denying his account of events?”

“Perhaps,” said Hoseok, attempting a straight face.

“Ah,” said Jooheon, trying to keep his face straight and failing miserably. “Yes. A few seconds. Very impressive.”

Hoseok nodded, and then in unison he and Jooheon burst into laughter. As he straightened and caught a glimpse of Jooheon’s flushed, smiling face, Hoseok felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He knew it might be foolish, trusting so easily, but he could not help it. He felt as though he had made more than an ally. He had made a friend.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

The carriage moved through the streets at a steady pace. Sounds of the market and streets seeped through the closed window and drawn curtains, filling the interior with a soft buzz.

Kihyun leaned back in his seat, eyes closed to enjoy the sound as much as he could. He still missed trips to the market. It was different as a consort, only passing through them.

Beside him in the small carriage sat Changkyun. Kihyun could feel his presence more than anything, a great, looming thing, drawing his attention no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. Finally, frustrated at his hopeless effort, he gave in and opened his eyes to look at Changkyun.

The Fourth Consort was dressed in rather heavy robes of gray, subtle patterns of circles and rings in pink over the body and more prominent at the collar and sleeves. He held a beautiful silk and tortoiseshell fan of smoky gray in his hand, chain of linked quartz twisted around his wrist. His hair was tied back, but only at the top. The rest of his hair was loose down his back, a waterfall of silky midnight.

Kihyun knew he should say something, that staring like this was not right, and so he asked, “Is this your first time speaking with the old general?”

“We spoke before, but only briefly,” said Changkyun. “Nothing more than an introduction.”

“He is not one for the petty shows of politeness most courtiers enjoy,” said Kihyun. “He can be quite direct. Do not let it put you off. He is not a bad man, and has been a loyal servant to Yishin for years. He is simply a bit… traditional.”

“I know,” said Changkyun quietly. “He told me he was glad I had become consort, because I seemed like the type of boy who would not speak too much.”

Kihyun opened his mouth, and closed it without a word. “Just so,” he said finally.

They lapsed into silence. It was not an uncomfortable one, but one weighted with thought. Kihyun wondered why the brusque old general had invited him to his home. Since his second wife's death Yeon Hu did not often have visitors. This was no leisure meeting, that much was obvious.

“I will return them, if you want me to.”

Kihyun turned to the other, surprised. “I'm sorry?”

“I will return the books, if you would like,” said Changkyun. “The ones Minister Han sent me. I can get more books from elsewhere.”

Kihyun did not know how to respond. Changkyun had been thinking about it since he had told Kihyun days ago. He was offering to return his gift, just to please Kihyun.

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell Changkyun to do it. To forbid him from interacting with Han Jehan, from accepting any more gifts from handsome young ministers. He knew Changkyun would, if he asked him to.

“You do not have to return anything,” said Kihyun. “They are your books. As a consort you will receive many gifts from people trying to influence the king or win favor. You are free to accept or refuse as many as you wish.”

“He did not ask anything of me,” said Changkyun.

“Often, they do not,” said Kihyun. “It is a move to get into our good graces.” He paused. “Do not misunderstand. Han Jehan has no personal interest in you, romantic or otherwise.”

He did not know why he added the last part. For some reason Kihyun felt it was important Changkyun knew that.

“I know,” said Changkyun, giving Kihyun an almost offended look. “I saw the charm he was attacking Consort Minhyuk with.”

“Alright,” said Kihyun, feeling oddly pleased. “So long as you know.”

“I do,” said Changkyun. “Just like I know he was all sweet to you when you first met and held your hand while you got into your carriage.”

Kihyun’s eyes widened in surprise, before he figured out how Changkyun had learned of it. “Hyunwoo,” he said.

“He was not pleased,” said Changkyun with a knowledgeable nod. “He said he wanted to cut the minister down.”

“I am beginning to wish he had,” said Kihyun.

Changkyun giggled, a beautiful, precious sound Kihyun wanted to hold close to his chest.

The rest of the journey passed in comfortable silence until the carriage finally came to a stop. The sounds of the busy marketplace had been left behind, and when a servant opened the door Kihyun saw the wide expanse of trees that ran along the southern side of the Yishini capital. The old general lived in a rather small compound almost outside the capital, within riding distance of the forest that still grew from ages ago. He was not very fond of people, and preferred the quiet life.

A servant led Kihyun and Changkyun inside and through to Yeon Hu’s study, where the man was waiting for them.

Yeon Hu was old, face lined and long, thick beard snow white. In his youth he had been a formidable warrior, and it still showed in the proud line of his back and his quick, strong movements. He cut an imposing figure in his muted gold robes, easily taller than Kihyun, and the First Consort had to remind himself that it was he who was higher in status, not the general.

“Good afternoon, Consorts,” said Yeon Hu, bending only slightly into a bow. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

“Of course,” said Kihyun, bowing back. Changkyun followed suit. “It is an honor. Not often do you invite guests.”

“Yes, I do not believe in doing things without reason,” said Yeon Hu. He motioned to seats nearby. “Please sit, my servants will be here with refreshment soon.”

The two consorts did as asked. Kihyun did not bother with small talk or pleasant inquiries; they would only irritate the general. If Yeon Hu wanted to speak about something, he would.

“I heard the Second Consort defended His Majesty,” said Yeon Hu, as servants came in with trays bearing cakes and tea. “It is admirable. Please send him my warmest gratitude.”

“I will,” said Kihyun. “Minhyuk will be glad to hear it.”

“He is well?” asked Yeon Hu.

“He is perfectly uninjured, and in good spirits,” said Kihyun. “He was very happy to receive your letter, and has sent his reply with me.” He reached inside his belt and pulled out the tightly bound scroll.

Yeon Hu’s stern face softened as he took it. “Thank you.”

“It is no trouble,” said Kihyun with a smile. Beside him Changkyun kept his face straight, but Kihyun could sense his surprise. Of course, he did not know the history between the general and the Second Consort. Yeon Hu was very fond of Minhyuk, going so far as to arrange his marriage to his beloved oldest son many years ago. Even after Minhyuk was chosen as consort by Hoseok they still communicated, and were surprisingly close. Minhyuk’s warm, forward personality and his refusal to leverage their relationship for political purposes were most likely the main reasons. He softened the old man’s heart in a way few had ever been able to.

With the letter safely put away, the general returned to business. “The attack on His Majesty’s life is not good for Yishin,” he said. “I approve of the need for investigation. Not good to point fingers at Eigak, even if we know the bastards did it.”

“We do not really know anything for sure,” said Kihyun carefully.

“Eigak does not specifically mean Prince Jooheon,” said Changkyun without warning, surprising Kihyun.

“I agree,” said Yeon Hu. “It may not be the prince, but I am damn sure it is someone from Eigak.” He turned to Kihyun. “That is why I called you here.”

“You have information on who might have planned it?” asked Kihyun.

“Perhaps,” said Yeon Hu. “You know I maintain communication not only with the military lords and generals but also with a few common soldiers. Some of them are posted by the Eigak border.”

“And they have heard something from the other side?” asked Kihyun, leaning forward.

“Not exactly,” said Yeon Hu. “There are taverns in the south east that straddle the borderline, and entertain soldiers from both sides. They are considered peace zones, the soldiers do not fight there and occasionally intermingle.” He paused. “Do you know how the Eigakese military works?”

Kihyun knew only vaguely, and so he looked to Changkyun to explain, knowing he had more knowledge on Eigakese matters. “They do not have a central military like Yishin’s,” said the Fourth Consort. “The various lords provide soldiers, some conscripts. They are divided into separate companies, all with different codes of conduct and uniforms. The royal family has their own battalion.”

Yeon Hu nodded, looking slightly impressed. “Recently the border has been having an influx of soldiers, all from one company,” he said. “The common soldiers will not speak of who owns this company. My friends say it is likely they do not even know. Their only common mark is the crest of a pink bird on their uniforms.”

Kihyun frowned. “Eigak is increasing their presence at the border?”

“No, the number of soldiers is the same,” said the general. “Only the make-up has changed. Other lords have withdrawn their troops so that this pink crested one may replace them.”

“That makes no sense from a financial standpoint,” said Kihyun. “Most of the Eigakese lords only work to make money.”

“Most lords everywhere only work to make money,” said Yeon Hu drily.

“Concentrating their soldiers in one place is not profitable,” said Kihyun, skipping over the remark.

“From what I have heard, soldiers at the border receive more funding,” said Changkyun. “Moreover, we do not know how many soldiers this pink bird has. The border force could be but a small portion.” He turned to Yeon Hu. “Have your… friends seen this pink crest before?”

“No,” said Yeon Hu. “Only recently it has turned up, and in large numbers.”

“A dummy crest, then,” said Kihyun. “It is impossible for a noble to become so rich so quickly. Some lord is using this pink bird as a new identity.”

“To what purpose?” asked Changkyun. “If it is for money’s sake then why go to the trouble of using a new symbol?”

“That is the question,” said Yeon Hu. “The soldiers are ordinary, not especially skilled or trained fighters. But they are many, and they are united to a cause I do not know of.”

“You believe it has something to do with the assassin,” said Kihyun.

“I cannot say now without evidence,” said Yeon Hu. “But it is suspicious, and I believe the king should know of it.”

“And that is why you asked for an audience with me,” said Kihyun, a small smile touching his lips.

“The quickest way to the king’s ear is through his consorts,” said Yeon Hu humorlessly.

“You could have raised the issue in court,” said Kihyun. “The prime minister is head of the investigative team. He could benefit from hearing about this.”

“I will not bring up pointless information in the court,” said the general. “The court is a place of gravity, and must remain as such. If I get any solid information, then I will speak on it formally. For now, I am sharing what I know with you. I am a suspicious old man, but I am still alive, which is proof enough my suspicions are not often wrong.”

Kihyun thought this over. “Thank you, general,” he said. “I will pass this on to the king. I am sure he will make great use of this information.”

Yeon Hu nodded and Kihyun, sensing the visit over, rose. Changkyun and Yeon Hu did the same, and Kihyun bowed slightly and said, “Thank you for your hospitality. The Fourth Consort and I must be leaving now.”

“Travel safe,” said Yeon Hu, eyes solemn. “Keep close counsel with His Majesty, Consort. I feel great and turbulent events in the coming winds.”

His stern face and proud bearing sent a shiver down Kihyun’s spine. It reminded him of the reading Hyungwon had conducted for Hoseok so long ago, when they had gone from three consorts to four.

The Emperor had shown his face, but he had not yet shown his hand.

Kihyun bowed and bid farewell to the general, and as they left he folded his hands in his sleeves and gripped the blade of the dagger he kept there.


	12. Exhaustion of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Third Consort said nothing. His heart was undone.
> 
>  _White Carnation: A Dramatic Retelling of Events Occurring After King Hoseok's First Marriage_  
>  Ahrin of Hansan-do

The vote proceeded calmly, each courtier silently voting one after the other. After all votes had been cast, the scribe in the corner tallied them, and then whispered the result to the announcer.

“The votes have been counted,” cried the man in a loud, clear voice. “Minister Choi remains in the first circle.”

Polite applause resounded in the hall, and then the vote moved on to the next minister.

Jo Senmi presided over the vote, terribly bored. It was custom for the court to vote every two moons, deciding on which ministers would be promoted to higher circles, dropped to lower ones, or remain as they were. Changes in position were rare. It was merely one of the formalities of court, established when the First King had made the court. In those days the vote had been important, reshuffling of the court being quite common as times were turbulent. Now it was merely boring.

Another vote was concluded, another minister keeping his seat. Finally, the vote reached the one minister that might show an interesting result.

Han Jehan sat calmly as his name was called, face still. He had inherited his seat, and had not proved his worth as of yet. He had been more involved in his studies than in politics before taking the court seat. It would not be unexpected if he faced some opposition. Jo Senmi watched the vote carefully.

The first circle ministers started off the vote. Minister Kang raised a blue fan, signaling approval. Minister Min raised a blue fan as well. Jo Senmi watched, faintly surprised, as all the ministers of the first circle raised blue. Even the stubborn old general approved, which was rather unexpected. Yeon Hu was not fond of the nobility, and generally voted against nobles inheriting their seats until they proved their worth to him.

The rest was merely a formality. The remaining courtiers were all loyal to first circle ministers, and would vote as they did. In the end, Han Jehan received all blue as the other first circle ministers had, and remained in his position.

Voting dragged on for the second circle ministers, each one retaining their position, as did those of the lowest ranked courtiers. Finally, the voting ended, the court session was over, and after the king and his consorts left the hall Jo Senmi could rise and stretch.

Various ministers and courtiers approached him as he left, some asking favors, but most simply to make an impression. Jo Senmi magnanimously spoke a few words to all of them. He was prime minister, he could not simply avoid them no matter how much he wished to.

As a servant spread a parasol over him, another minister came to speak with him, one more interesting than most.

“Prime Minister,” said Han Jehan, with a deep, respectful bow. “I was hoping to speak with you. Would you mind joining me in my carriage for your journey home?”

It was an unusual request, but Jo Senmi accepted. Han Jehan had struck him as intelligent from their first meeting, and he wished to know what was on his mind.

Once the two men were comfortable inside the stately carriage, Han Jehan said, “You are prime minister and one of the wisest and most patriotic men I know, and though I am uncertain I felt I should share this with you.”

Jo Senmi smiled, pleased. “Please, speak.”

“I manage a great deal of my father’s land out west, some by the border,” said Han Jehan. “One of my subservient lords is known for making remarks against the king. He recently sent me a message that he was approached by agents from Eigak.”

“You employ those who speak ill of our king?” Jo Senmi frowned.

“For this very purpose,” said Han Jehan smoothly. “If the Eigakese were ever in search of sympathetic ears in Yishin, I thought it prudent that I might get news of it first.”

Jo Senmi nodded, impressed. “And someone in Eigak is seeking help from Yishin?”

“Yes,” said Han Jehan. “My liegeman did not get many details, only that the person at the head of this is a powerful lord in the Eigakese court.”

“Connected to the recent attack inside the palace?” asked Jo Senmi.

“Possibly,” said Han Jehan.

“Then we must find this lord immediately, and bring him to justice,” said Jo Senmi, temper rising. How dare an Eigakese lord not only attack the king of Yishin, but then seek support from Yishini lords? It was unfathomable.

“From what I have heard, the target was not His Majesty, but his consorts,” said Han Jehan. He always spoke calmly, carefully, but this time his tone angered Jo Senmi further.

“That matters not,” said the Prime Minister. “The consorts are Yishini. They were attacked inside the royal compound, in the presence of the king. Outrageous of this lord to expect help from any Yishini.”

There was a beat of silence, perhaps a moment too long to Jo Senmi’s ears, and then Han Jehan said, “I agree, Prime Minister. This man must be found and brought to answer for his crime.”

Jo Senmi took a deep breath. “Have your liegeman maintain contact, until we can learn this lord’s identity,” he said. “Then we must contact Eigak and have them hand him over to us.”

“You would ask permission from the Eigakese?” Han Jehan raised an eyebrow. “It could be argued that we have the right to him, as he attacked us.”

The word permission made Jo Senmi seethe, but he swallowed down his anger. One could not rise to the position of the highest politician in the country without learning to force down anger. “Nevertheless, it is due process,” said Jo Senmi. “Extracting him would ignite war.”

“And we must avoid that,” said Han Jehan. “Yes, Prime Minister, you speak true. Forgive me, my anger had gotten the better of me.”

“Understandable,” said Jo Senmi, feeling magnanimous. “It is an infuriating affair. Channel your anger elsewhere, and ensure your liegeman does not lose contact with this Eigakese lord’s men. In the meantime, I shall inform the investigative committee.”

“If I could beg a favor, please do not inform the committee of it yet,” said Han Jehan. At Jo Senmi’s questioning look, he said, “I do not wish to tire them with false leads. This could be nothing. I only ask for time to gather more information.”

That was sensible. Jo Senmi could agree to such a request. “Very well, but keep me informed,” he said.

“Of course,” said Han Jehan sincerely.

Pleased, Jo Senmi settled back into the seat cushions, and the carriage moved forward.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

There was a knock at the doorframe, and Kihyun straightened. “Enter,” he called out.

The door slid open, and Sewoon entered and bowed. “You asked for me, Consort?”

“Yes,” said Kihyun, with a smile. “Please, sit.”

Sewoon hesitated. Being asked to sit was unusual, but the manservant did not refuse, and sat on the cushion opposite Kihyun at the low table.

“Sewoon, you are my most trusted and capable servant,” said Kihyun. “You have served me loyally for years. Perhaps I have not shown it as much as I should have, but I am grateful for your work.”

“Thank you, you honor me,” said Sewoon, and he looked wary now.

“I hope you will not misunderstand me when I say this,” said Kihyun. “I want you to stop working for me.”

Sewoon’s jaw dropped, and then he quickly shut his mouth, chewed on his lower lip. “I don’t understand,” he said. “I thought I was serving you well. Did I displease you in any way?”

“No, just the opposite,” said Kihyun. “I am sure you have heard by now that we have opened civil service examinations to those of common birth. I want you to join them.”

There was a silence as Sewoon stared at him. Finally, he said, “Excuse me?”

“You deserve a civil service position,” said Kihyun. “You are too intelligent, too talented to remain a servant. Your talents are wasted here.”

“I do not agree,” said Sewoon quietly.

Kihyun paused. “I know you feel loyalty to me, after having been with me for so many years,” he said finally. “But in the same way, I feel loyalty to you. I want to see you succeed. I want to see you gain the position and respect I know you deserve.”

“Thank you, Consort,” murmured Sewoon. “I am honored.”

“The examination will be held in less than two moons’ time,” said Kihyun. “I believe that will be enough time for you to prepare. I am giving you free reign of the library—”

Sewoon opened his mouth to protest, but Kihyun stopped him with a raised hand.

“—and as much time off your duties as you require,” he finished. “If you wish, you may take your leave now. Seonho can attend to me. You already view him as your right hand, true?”

Sewoon nodded, looking rather dazed.

“Excellent,” said Kihyun, smiling. “So you see, I will not be lacking, and you have my full support. Of course, the choice is up to you.”

Another silence stretched as Sewoon stared at his lap. Then, finally, he asked quietly, “And if I do not pass?”

“Then you may return to your position here,” said Kihyun smoothly. “Things will be just the same as they are now. I have utmost faith you will pass, however.”

“I… I will think about it,” said Sewoon, looking up. “Thank you, Consort.”

Kihyun smiled in response, and finally, Sewoon returned it.

A knock at the doorframe sounded, and Sewoon instinctively rose and stood beside Kihyun. Kihyun did not bother asking him to be informal, and called out, “Enter.”

This time Yoojoo entered Kihyun’s study, and bowed. “Consort, a man wishes to see you,” she said. “He says he is a servant of Minister Han of the first circle.”

Kihyun frowned. “Han Jehan?”

Yoojoo nodded. “Should I tell him you are busy?” she asked.

“No, I will receive him,” said Kihyun. “Send him in.”

The girl left, and Kihyun sighed. “I have seen Minister Han’s men in the palace a great deal recently,” commented Sewoon. “His messengers exchange letters with the Second Consort’s, and bring gifts.”

“Yes, he is quite a flatterer,” said Kihyun, thinking of the books Changkyun had received from him. “I do not yet know if he is any more than that.”

“He has not sent the Third Consort any gifts,” said Sewoon.

“Proving he is not a fool,” said Kihyun. Hyungwon abhorred flattery.

A few moments later there was another knock on the doorframe, and again Kihyun called out permission to enter. The door slid open to reveal a young man dressed in green, trailed by another bearing a bag. The one in front was neither handsome nor ugly, and possessed no extraordinary features, except for an impressively wide set of shoulders.

Or so Kihyun thought. He was aware of Donghyuk immediately tensing as the man entered, hand ready to move to the hilt of his sword. He was on edge.

“First Consort,” he said, bowing low. “My name is Kim Sungil. My master, Minister Han, sends his regards.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Kihyun. It was not the exact correct response, but he was distracted by Donghyuk’s reaction.

“He found some old books on the old craft of Malanese embroidery, and thought you might enjoy them,” said Kim Sungil, head still bowed politely. The other servant stepped forward with the wrapped bundle.

“Tell him I am honored by his gift, and he has my gratitude,” said Kihyun, motioning to a servant to receive the bundle. He was rather impressed. He had only recently gained an interest in Malanese embroidery, an art form that had all but died out in the past few decades.

“My lord also wishes to offer his help with the investigation on the recent attack,” said Kim Sungil. “His family lands are located near the border, and he may be of some assistance.”

The words settled uneasy in Kihyun’s belly. “I am not involved in the investigation,” he said shortly.

“Nevertheless, if there is ever anything you would ask help for, my master is at your call,” said Kim Sungil, undaunted by the tone of response. “He hopes you will not hesitate to contact him.”

“I will take that into consideration for the future,” said Kihyun, a formal, general answer. “Thank you.”

Kim Sungil bowed once more, and then he and the accompanying servant left.

Once they had gone, Kihyun turned to Sewoon and asked, “What do you make of that?”

He had been asked his opinion enough times before that Sewoon did not hesitate to answer. “Unusual,” he said.

“I agree,” said Kihyun. “Not the gifts, that much is common. The offer of assistance for an investigation I am not even involved with, however…”

“Perhaps he believes you are involved,” said Sewoon.

Kihyun knew quite a few of the lords and ministers of the court certainly believed so. He dropped the matter for the moment and looked to Donghyuk. “Did you find anything unusual in Minister Han’s servant?” he asked.

“That man is not a servant,” said Donghyuk, brows furrowed. “He is a warrior.”

Kihyun was taken aback. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Donghyuk without hesitation. “We can recognize our own. He’s a warrior, a swordsman from his bearing. A damn good one I’d bet.” He realized his own words and quickly added, “Excuse my language, Consort.”

“Never mind your language, tell me about this Kim Sungil,” said Kihyun. “He was not armed.”

“No, but he was certainly a fighter,” said Donghyuk. “He assessed me the same instant I assessed him. His senses are as quick as mine.” He paused. “Perhaps even quicker,” he admitted.

“And Han Jehan is using him as a common servant?” Kihyun frowned. “Is it possible he does not know of his abilities?”

“Possible, but unlikely,” said Donghyuk. “Any worthy swordsman would be able to recognize Kim Sungil as one. I doubt a minister would be without a bodyguard.”

Kihyun sat where he was, thinking it over. Why would Han Jehan employ Kim Sungil as a servant, if Kim Sungil was such a skilled swordsman? Kihyun trusted Donghyuk on this matter, and from his reaction it seemed Donghyuk believed this Kim Sungil was formidable. Donghyuk was also Hyunwoo’s best student. Kim Sungil was certainly skilled.

“Sewoon,” said Kihyun, rising. “You may return to your duties. I must go speak to the king.”

Hoseok was in one of his leisure rooms, reclining on a stack of pillows. Minhyuk was beside him, putting finishing touches on his painting of the central rock garden, while Changkyun watched him at work. Hyunwoo stood near the door, marked Kihyun’s entrance first with a brief nod. Hyungwon was sitting beside the king, legs curled up underneath him.

When Kihyun entered the Third Consort was glaring at Hoseok, clearly upset. “I don’t see the need,” he was saying.

“How can you not?” said Hoseok, but he did not look angry. If anything, he looked amused. He caught sight of Kihyun and waved him over, saying, “Kihyun, please tell Hyungwon he is being unreasonable.”

“Gladly,” said Kihyun. He took a seat beside Hyungwon, behind Minhyuk. “What are we talking about?”

“The court sent a request to His Majesty, asking he name a successor in case of his death,” said Minhyuk, not looking away from his work.

“Why?” demanded Hyungwon. “He is still young, and healthy. The late king did not name a successor until he was on his deathbed.”

“Because my father had me,” said Hoseok with a laugh. “If he had died unexpectedly, I would have automatically taken the throne. Naming me successor was a formality. But if I die any time soon—”

“You are not going to,” cut in Hyungwon. “You are not going to—there is _no need_.”

“It’s just in case,” said Hoseok soothingly. “No one expects me to die.” He looked at Kihyun for support.

“It’s a common precaution,” said Kihyun, trying to sound calm. Hyungwon turned to glare at him.

“All the monarchs did it,” said Changkyun, speaking up unexpectedly. “In the olden days monarchs would name their successor at their coronation. Do not look at Consort Kihyun like that. He is right.”

Kihyun glanced at Changkyun. The younger consort quickly looked away.

“I don’t like it,” said Hyungwon finally.

Hoseok laughed and straightened to pull Hyungwon down and into an embrace. Hyungwon squawked and tried to get free, but he was no match for the king’s muscular arms. Eventually he gave up and let Hoseok hold him against his chest, curling up against his side.

“Cute,” said the king with a giggle, and Hyungwon harrumphed but said nothing. He turned to Kihyun. “Any reason you have decided to grace my day with your presence, o busy consort of mine?” he asked, grinning.

“Yes, actually,” said Kihyun. “Do you know Han Jehan?”

“The new first circle minister?” asked the king. “I know of him.”

“Something about him strikes me as suspicious,” said Kihyun. “I think we should investigate him.”

Hoseok frowned. “For what?”

“Anything,” said Kihyun. “Everything. We should find out more about him.”

“What is there to find out?” asked Minhyuk, still focusing on his work. “He is a younger son, studied business or commerce or some such like that. Charming. Handsome.” He looked away from the canvas a moment to flash Hoseok a smile and a wink as he said, “Not as handsome as our king, though.”

“Something is off about him,” insisted Kihyun. “He flatters too much. He just now sent me a gift—”

Minhyuk laughed. “Bragging, First Consort?”

“No, listen,” said Kihyun, irritated. “The servant he sent the gift with, he was a skilled warrior. Why would he do that? I believe he is trying to intimidate me.”

“Why would he try to intimidate you?” asked the king.

“I have no idea,” said Kihyun. He was not even certain Han Jehan was trying to intimidate him, but what other explanation was there?

“And that is enough to warrant investigating him?” asked the king.

He was smiling, and it infuriated Kihyun. He viewed Kihyun’s suspicion the same way he viewed Hyungwon’s opposition to naming a successor, like it was unreasonable and amusing. “He also offered help with the investigation into the assassination attempt,” he said.

Hyungwon tensed at the words, and Hoseok noticed. “Kihyun, drop it,” he said, still smiling, but the smile was decidedly more brittle now.

“He is dangerous,” insisted Kihyun. How could they not see that?

“How?” asked Hoseok. “Please, give me a decisive reason, and then I will see about stretching our already depleted resources to investigate a member of my own court.”

Kihyun had no answer.

It was enough to end the conversation for the king. He curled into Hyungwon and whispered something to him, something that made the Third Consort push at his chest, making the king laugh. Minhyuk focused on his painting once more.

And that was it. Kihyun sat still, feeling defeated and tired.

He had brought up his concerns and they had been dismissed, almost laughed at. What felt worst was that Hoseok had been right to do so. They had no money to investigate Han Jehan. They had no reason to investigate Han Jehan. Kihyun’s suspicions were based on nothing, but they tugged at his insides, telling him he had to do something, and it made him feel even more unreasonable.

He was just so, so tired.

“First Consort, would you mind accompanying me a while?”

Kihyun turned and found Changkyun looking at him, face blank and dark eyes waiting.

“I can show you my collection of books,” continued Changkyun. “There is one I have been interested in recently. I would like to show it to you.”

Kihyun stared at him, unable to respond. And then, finally, he said, “Alright.”

Changkyun rose and Kihyun followed, the two of them leaving the room. Only Hyunwoo truly seemed to notice, giving a farewell nod. Minhyuk was absorbed in his painting, Hoseok and Hyungwon in each other.

They made their way down the hallways in silence. Eventually they reached Changkyun’s quarters, with the vibrant green herb garden and death-white wood floors. They entered Changkyun’s room of unusual knickknacks, and Kihyun’s eyes immediately went to the second door in the corner. Changkyun turned to their attendants and guards and said, “You will have to stay here. The First Consort and I are entering my private rooms.”

His own guard and attendant accepted at once, but Kihyun’s looked uncertain. Donghyuk gave him a look of almost pleading.

“It’s alright,” said Kihyun, with an encouraging smile. “Changkyun and I will be perfectly safe. There are no other entrances to there, after all.” It was only after he had said it did he remember that was not true.

Donghyuk gave in, probably because he had no other choice. Changkyun opened the door in the corner, and Kihyun entered first.

It was dark in the closed corridor beyond. Kihyun felt along the wall as he walked, remembering the last time he had been there. It felt like an eternity ago. So much had happened, it felt as though time had betrayed him, moving as it wished.

He felt a door on his left, but Changkyun pressed a gentle hand to his back, telling him to keep going. Soon afterwards he found the second door, and opened it without hesitation.

The room was just as he remembered it. The large window leading to the enclosed garden. The scattered pieces of clockwork and metal tools and pieces in one corner. The threadbare carpet and hanging painting. The bedroll was spread out, and there were a few books and scrolls scattered and stacked beside it.

“Here,” said Changkyun going over to the bed and sitting down on it. He picked up one of the nearby books. After a moment’s hesitation Kihyun joined him on the bed, and took the book from him.

He inspected the cover, and flipped through the pages. “Is this _Brief Whispers_?”

“It is,” said Changkyun, eyes lighting up. “You’ve read it?”

“I have,” said Kihyun, handing the book back. “Quite a few years ago, before I became consort. It is a good book.”

“A very good book,” said Changkyun. “The author relayed the characters’ feelings so well, I felt like I was falling in love along with them. And the ending was so clever.”

“Yes, I remember the descriptions also being very vivid,” said Kihyun, to which Changkyun nodded along eagerly. “I was surprised it never became very popular.”

“I am still surprised,” said Changkyun. “I had never heard of it back home. I’m glad I found it finally.”

Kihyun nodded. He had nothing more to say about the book, and just watched as Changkyun flipped through the pages, sometimes stopping to read a few words. “Thank you,” he said.

The Fourth Consort looked up. “For what?”

Kihyun did not answer, because he himself did not know. But Changkyun did not press any further, he simply went back to the book.

“I am sorry the king reacted like that,” he said after a while, without warning. “If it means anything, I believe you.”

“You believe we have good reason to look into Han Jehan’s affairs?” asked Kihyun.

“I believe we should trust your instincts,” said Changkyun, closing the book to look at Kihyun. “You helped govern Yishin well for three years. I think your instincts are worth listening to.” He paused. “The warrior he sent with his gift, did he say or do anything?”

“No, he acted normally,” said Kihyun. “In any case, Donghyuk was there with me.”

“Good,” said Changkyun. He picked up the book again.

“Thank you,” said Kihyun again, but this time he knew why. “It means a great deal.”

Changkyun glanced up at him, and smiled.

The air felt warm, the warmth of it heavy on Kihyun’s skin. Changkyun’s smile was soft, gentle, warm, like spring sunlight. It was enchanting.

Kihyun looked away before he could be drawn in too close, and coughed, more as a way to anchor himself to reality than anything else. When he dared look back Changkyun was flipping through the book once more.

“Consort, you read this book?” he asked, voice light, casual. Normal. “All of it?”

“Yes,” said Kihyun, grateful for Changkyun acting as he always did.

“So you’ve read even the…” Changkyun looked up with a devilish smile, raising his eyebrows. “Saucy scenes?”

Kihyun almost choked on air. “Ex—excuse me?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” said Changkyun, still smiling that devilish smile. “You don’t remember those? The scandalous parts? The _hot_ scenes?”

“No,” lied Kihyun resolutely.

“When Seungheon visited Narae after her father had forbidden their marriage,” said Changkyun, wiggling his eyebrows. “ _That_ scene. Come now, you were praising the author’s _vivid descriptions_ just a minute past.”

“I don’t remember there being anything like that,” said Kihyun, but he could feel heat flood his face.

“Really? Allow me to remind you,” said Changkyun, still grinning. He opened the page his finger had marked. “ _‘Only the moonlight illuminated their bodies’_ ,” he read aloud, voice an octave lower than usual. “ _‘And only the night spirits were witness to their union. Seungheon lightly trailed his fingers along—’_ ”

“Stop that,” said Kihyun, making a grab for the book. Changkyun evaded by leaning backwards, holding the book over his head. “What are you reading? You—you’re hardly more than a child.”

“ _‘—along Narae’s smooth skin, feeling the tension underneath’_ ,” continued Changkyun, craning his head to read as he leaned even further back. “ _‘She shivered beneath his intense gaze. “We can stop,” he said, ceasing the restless caresses of his fingers—’_ ”

“Alright, that is enough,” said Kihyun, getting up on his knees to get a reach on the book. His face felt like a furnace.

“ _‘“No,” she breathed out’_ ,” said Changkyun, undaunted, edging back and just holding the book out of Kihyun’s reach. His attempt at a sultry voice was ruined by the laugh threatening to escape. “ _‘Her breath was heavy against his lips. “I cannot resist you, my love.” She—’_ ”

His words were cut short as Kihyun made another desperate grab at the book. He lost his balance and fell, right on top of Changkyun.

Changkyun roared with laughter, body shaking underneath Kihyun’s, and Kihyun found that he was laughing too. He felt light, free, like the weight that had been holding him down was slowly fading away. He laughed until it had all left him, until his soul felt light and he was just looking down at Changkyun, lingering smile on his face.

Eventually Changkyun’s laughter subsided into chuckles, and then into a smile, as he looked up at Kihyun with half-lidded eyes. His body was warm, strangely comfortable beneath Kihyun’s. Like two puzzle pieces made especially for the other.

Changkyun looked at him, lips slightly parted, still breathing heavy from the laughter, like a vision from a dream Kihyun had both feared and chased after. And Kihyun could feel it at his back, that weight, ready to attach itself to him once more. That weight of being around Changkyun and being unable to touch him, unable to tell him how he felt, unable to remove the boards he had nailed to keep his heart shut. It was coming, and Kihyun was so, so tired of carrying it.

He leaned forward and kissed Changkyun.

When he pulled back Changkyun was staring, eyes wide. “I… I thought…”

Kihyun shook his head. No more thinking.

He tilted his head to kiss him again. This time Changkyun parted his lips for him, and kissed him back deeply.

Changkyun tasted sweet, almost, a gentle intoxicating taste. He tasted like a dream, a fantasy. He tasted like home. He tasted like love.

Only later would Kihyun realize he tasted like treason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (late) birthday to the ever lovely [queendomcosplay](https://www.instagram.com/queendom_cosplay/)! Go check her out on ig, she's absolutely amazing ♡


	13. Pieces of a Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In our every moment we make a choice.
> 
> Excerpt from a letter sent by Yoo Hee to her student Jeon Su

First Consort Kihyun had become a fool. There was no other explanation for the situation he now found himself in.

He was sitting in the king’s study, the king’s head pillowed in his lap. On one side of him was Minhyuk, putting final touches on a painting. Nearby was Hyungwon, paging through a book lazily, very obviously not focusing.

And directly opposite him was Changkyun, book open in his lap but eyes fixed on Kihyun.

He was waiting. Waiting for Kihyun to give in, say something. Unlike last time, however, there was nothing urgent about it. It was as though Changkyun had no qualms with waiting, so long as he got his answer. He had no doubt what it would be.

Kihyun felt the itch from his gaze. He tried to ignore it, but it was heavy on his skin.

He could not ignore it forever, he knew that. He had tried before, and it had resulted in this. But what could he say? What was there to say?

He could claim it was a mistake, and it was. But he could not say he regretted it, not to Changkyun, or to himself. The time for lies was over.

So First Consort Kihyun sat where he was, his king's head on his lap, while opposite sat the man he was in love with.

“Done,” announced Minhyuk, setting down his paintbrush. He turned the canvas to give them a good look at his finished work, a hazy, dreamlike painting of delicate pinks and touches of black.

“That is beautiful,” said Hoseok, raising his head to get a proper look. “What is it?”

“Peach blossom path,” said Minhyuk. “A path winding through a forest of peach trees in bloom. It's what it would look like in the hazy border between dream and reality.”

With Minhyuk’s brief explanation, everything became obvious. “That's amazing,” said Hyungwon, voicing everyone's thoughts. Kihyun nodded when Minhyuk looked to him, while Changkyun let out a soft ‘wow’.

Minhyuk beamed, and then turned to Hyunwoo. “It is great, isn't it?”

“It is,” said Hyunwoo sincerely. “You're very talented, Consort.”

“I need to show Jooheon and Sojung,” said Minhyuk. He blew gently on the drying paints, and then motioned to a servant to roll it up. With a clap of his hands he said, “Kihyun, do you want to come with me?”

The sudden offer caught Kihyun off-guard. “Go with you?” he asked. “To see Prince Jooheon?”

“Yes, let's go,” said Minhyuk, standing up.

It was obvious he had already made up his mind, and it was impossible to refuse a Minhyuk who had decided on something. Kihyun made to get up, but Hoseok whined and held onto his thighs. Kihyun sighed and motioned Hyungwon over, who put his book down and took over his spot, Hoseok having to lift his head for only a second.

As Kihyun and Minhyuk walked down the corridor, the Second Consort said, “I wanted to speak to you about something, Kihyun.”

He sounded serious, which surprised Kihyun. “Alright,” he said.

“That minister you wanted to investigate, Han Jehan,” said Minhyuk. “I know His Majesty did not want us to waste our resources on him, but you seemed convinced so I sent some of my informants after his affairs.”

Kihyun could not help but feel touched. “What did they find out?” he asked.

“Nothing yet,” said Minhyuk. “All I have heard is that he treats his servants well.”

“And anything of a man named Kim Sungil?” asked Kihyun.

“Only that he just recently entered Minister Han's employ,” said Minhyuk. “The servants are unwilling to speak of his household affairs.”

“Because he treats them well,” said Kihyun. Han Jehan had earned their loyalty with his kind treatment. It was smart. Most of the nobility were careless in this regard, forgetting their servants were human too.

Minhyuk nodded. “So they are trying to gain their trust,” he said. “They are also going around the people Minister Han conducts business with.”

“That might be more effective,” said Kihyun. “I doubt his servants will tell much. If he is as aware as I think he is, he will not do anything suspicious around anyone but his most trusted servants.”

“Alright, I will tell them to work on that,” said Minhyuk.

“Thank you,” said Kihyun, giving his words more than one meaning.

“It is nothing,” said Minhyuk with a grin. “If it turns out he is hiding something, I can gloat over His Majesty. If he is innocent, well, it's good to keep the spies busy.”

Kihyun gave Minhyuk’s arm an affectionate squeeze, which he immediately regretted as Minhyuk took it as an invitation to pounce on him and crush him in a hug.

The prince of Eigak was having tea with his bodyguard when the two consorts were ushered in. Servants unrolled the painting while others went to fetch more tea and dainties.

“Incredible,” said Prince Jooheon, while Minhyuk smiled proudly. “What is it?”

“Forgive the prince, he's artistically challenged,” said Sojung with a smile. “It feels dreamy, like a garden or forest I saw while waking from a dream.”

Minhyuk’s eyes widened, and then he exclaimed, “Finally! Someone worth talking to.”

He and Sojung were soon engaged in a passionate conversation on art, leaving Kihyun with the prince.

Despite how long they had known each other, it was still awkward. Kihyun still could not trust the Eigakese prince. Jooheon had managed to win over the rest of the household, though, starting from the king through to the youngest consort. If the prince was truly plotting against Yishin, Kihyun would never forgive him. Changkyun would be crushed.

Everything, in the end, circled back to Changkyun.

“Have you been well, First Consort?” asked Prince Jooheon, trying to dispel the awkward silence.

“Yes,” said Kihyun. “And you, Your Highness?”

“As well as I can be,” said the prince, with a smile that pulled at a dimple. “Sojung nags at me to practice my sparring. I tell her I am on holiday, and she argues back that I now have enough free time to practice.”

“She is right,” said Kihyun, with a smile. “If His Majesty was not such a capable fighter I would pester him to practice more.”

“I am a very capable fighter,” said Jooheon with a sniff, and then burst into a bright, genuine smile. “Are you any skilled at fighting, Consort?”

“My skills extend up to self defense, and no more,” said Kihyun. “Of us four, Minhyuk is the warrior. Third Consort Hyungwon is similar to me. Changkyun… I do not know.”

“Yes, the Second Consort misses no opportunity to remind us of his ability,” said Jooheon. “Speaking of the Fourth Consort, there I was something I wanted to ask you.”

Kihyun felt his stomach drop. “Ask.”

“Has anything happened to bring about his sudden change in mood?” asked Jooheon, serious.

“What change in mood?” asked Kihyun. He could feel his heart squeeze in his chest.

“It is difficult to describe,” said Jooheon. “Excited, but quietly so.”

“I do not know,” said Kihyun, trying not to sound stiff.

“Ah, then he has not confided in you either,” said Jooheon. “As the two of you are quite close, I thought I would ask.”

Kihyun thought to deny that, but knew there was no point. Everyone knew Kihyun and Changkyun had become close.

“I shall have to wait for him to tell me then,” said Jooheon, leaning back. “We are good friends; I am sure he will eventually.”

Kihyun did not know how to answer.

“What are you two talking about?” asked Sojung, conversation with Minhyuk over or paused. Kihyun noticed she naturally slid the plate of sweets closer to her prince.

“About how you are pressing me to practice,” said Jooheon with a petulant look. “And while I should be relaxing, might I add.”

“It would be good, Your Highness,” said Sojung with a sigh. “You have the time now. You can defend yourself better.”

“Why should I, when I have you?” retorted Jooheon. “That is your job, if you've forgotten.”

They spent the rest of tea in entertaining conversation, the topic of Changkyun and his exciting secret thankfully never raised. It circled in Kihyun’s brain, like a caged rat, pushing at the bars of the cage and pushing him closer to a decision.

The time for lies was over, and so was the time for ignoring the truth.

 

“Changkyun, would you mind showing me the new artwork you bought?”

The Fourth Consort turned away from his conversation with Hyungwon, looking both surprised and not. They had been discussing art, and Changkyun had mentioned a new painting he had acquired.

“I would love to,” said Changkyun, no smile on his lips and eyes hiding emotions.

Kihyun nodded.

Changkyun excused himself, and Hyungwon complained but not seriously. If anything, he looked pleased. It was proven when he stopped Kihyun as he walked past, saying, “Tell me if you find out why he's been acting strange.”

“Why?” asked Kihyun. He was used to the twist in his belly now.

“I have a wager with Minhyuk,” said Hyungwon, with a serious look. “So find out and tell me.”

Kihyun left, promising nothing.

The walk to Changkyun’s quarters felt long, the only sound the shuffle of Kihyun’s following coterie of servants. Finally they entered the enclosure of white wood and green fern, and Changkyun walked up to his door in the corner and held it open for Kihyun.

Jaesoom was Kihyun’s assigned guard for the day, and she looked uneasy despite Kihyun’s assurances. “I don't know what'll happen in there,” she said.

“Nothing,” lied Kihyun. “Nothing will happen.”

“There are no other entrances but this one,” said Changkyun, and that was another lie. “You and Taehee will be right here, protecting it. There is nothing to worry about.”

The guard gave in, because there was nothing else to do. Kihyun entered the passage and Changkyun followed, closing the door behind him.

It was dark in the windowless hallway, as it always was. Kihyun reached out for the walls on either side, trying to feel his way through, when he suddenly felt a hand gently rest on his waist.

“This way,” said Changkyun quietly, leading him from behind.

Kihyun swallowed, feeling heat rise up his neck. Changkyun’s soft voice, the light touch, the darkness all made the situation feel incredibly intimate.

Contrary to first belief, the corridor did not end in a solid wall, but had turned left, and the two of them went down it. After what felt like an age, Changkyun gently tugged Kihyun to a halt, and opened a door to their left. The room beyond was not the one Kihyun was used to, but similar. It also had a large window to the fragrant herb garden beyond, the only other way in or out. The room was filled with art, paintings and hanging weavings covering the entirety of one wall. Along the other a number of tables were arranged, and on these a variety of sculptures rested. Most were made of clay, but some were of metal as well, and while some portrayed perfect, detailed images of animals and flowers, others were undecipherable masses of intricate wires or unbalanced twisting clay. It was an eclectic collection, and suited Changkyun perfectly.

Kihyun was acutely aware of Changkyun’s hand leaving his waist as the younger walked over to the covered wall of art. “This is it,” he said, motioning to a painting of riotous blues and greens. “It is by Jeon Su, one of Yoo Hee's students.”

“Your favorite artist,” said Kihyun automatically.

Changkyun smiled. “Yes,” he said.

Kihyun chewed his lower lip. He had to say something. Now was the time. Changkyun was waiting for him, had been waiting for him, and Kihyun had come. But what could he say? What could he say that would make sense? Words rose and fell in Kihyun’s throat like waves, threatening to spill over but never going past the edge.

“Are you here to tell me it was a mistake?”

Changkyun’s words ripped Kihyun from his thoughts. He stared at the Fourth Consort, expecting to see hurt or anger or both, but saw nothing of the sort. All he saw was calm, Changkyun’s gaze fixed on Kihyun, waiting. Kihyun floundered, unable to find words.

“Are you going to tell me it was a moment of weakness?” Changkyun continued, voice measured. “That you lost your mind? That you were frustrated or worked up or craving touch? Will you tell me I imagined it all, and it never happened?”

Kihyun swallowed, but the mass in his throat remained.

“I am waiting, Consort,” said Changkyun. “Give me whatever excuse you have ready this time.”

“I have no excuse,” said Kihyun helplessly. It was the truth.

“That is surprising,” said Changkyun. “I thought that was why you wanted to speak to me in private.”

“No,” said Kihyun. The truth was he did not know why. He knew he had to talk to Changkyun, but he could not find the words. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” said Changkyun. “You can feed me whatever story you like. I was fool enough to believe you the first time, but not any longer.”

Whatever pillar was holding Kihyun up inside cracked. “We cannot,” he said. “You know that. You know.”

“I do not know,” said Changkyun, voice steady, gaze piercing. “I do not know until you tell me.”

“What do you want from me?” asked Kihyun desperately, but he already knew.

“I just want you to tell me the truth for once,” said Changkyun, and a sliver of a crack showed through his calm mask. “Just the truth. No more lies, no more pretending. Only the truth.”

“What would you have me say?” Kihyun could feel the pillar wearing away, crumbling to pieces. “That it was not a mistake, it was what I wanted more than anything in my life? That I think of you nearly every waking moment, that I cannot stop and I find I do not want to? That I risked everything I have ever attained—my honor, my title, my _life_ —for one single moment and I cannot bring myself to regret it?”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Changkyun did not say anything, but Kihyun saw his eyes widen, his chest rise and then fall as he exhaled deeply. He licked his lower lip, and then finally opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again without a word.

“What have you gained?” asked Kihyun. He realized he was breathing heavily, and tried to calm himself. “What? You know now, and what can you do? What can either of us do? Are you satisfied with hearing the words?”

There was another long pause, while Changkyun stared at the floor and gathered his thoughts. Finally, he said, “I am glad to hear them. But I am not satisfied, no.”

“That is the problem,” said Kihyun. “You cannot be satisfied with just that.” _I cannot be satisfied with just that._

Changkyun did not deny that. Instead he said, quietly, almost too quiet to hear, “Would it mean anything if I told you I felt the same?”

Kihyun swallowed. It meant everything. But he could not tell the younger consort that, so he said, “Nothing changes. We cannot.”

“We cannot what?” Changkyun’s brows furrowed. “You don’t even know what I am asking for.”

“It does not matter,” said Kihyun. “Even the least is too much. We have already done enough to be convicted of treason.”

“Nobody knows what we’ve done,” said Changkyun, taking a step forward. “Nobody knows but us, and nobody will know, if neither of us say.”

“This is the royal household,” said Kihyun, taking a step back instinctively. He needed the distance to think, but Changkyun took another step, closing it again. “Things get out,” he said. Another step backwards, and again another step from Changkyun, and then another. “They always do,” said Kihyun. He took another step backwards, feeling the thudding in his chest. “You know that,” he said. “You’ve read the book.”

Changkyun stopped. “Things have changed since then,” he said.

“Not enough,” said Kihyun. “The laws, the punishment, they are the same. If anyone finds out what we have done, we will face the same fate.”

“Nobody will find out,” insisted Changkyun. “That was a time of paranoia and suspicion. Nobody would suspect us of anything.”

“What would they suspect?” asked Kihyun. “What would there be for them to discover? What exactly are you asking me to do?”

Changkyun looked helpless. “Just… love me,” he said.

 _I already do._ Kihyun said nothing.

“I cannot be without you,” said Changkyun. His expression was open, vulnerable. “Everything you do means everything to me, and I cannot feel otherwise, I cannot even pretend otherwise. I thought I could be happy just staying beside you, quietly, but I cannot stay quiet now that I know you feel the same. You must understand, Consort. Please tell me you understand.”

Kihyun felt a stab in his chest at being addressed by his title. Consort. That was what he was. It was what he would remain for the rest of his life, whether that life ended in a sickbed or at the end of an executioner’s blade.

“I do,” he said. “And you must understand as well. No matter what we do, things will not change. All we can do is forget any of this ever happened.”

“I cannot forget,” said Changkyun. “And I don't think you can either.”

“Thank you for showing me the painting, Consort,” said Kihyun, in his formal voice. “Let us return, the Third Consort must be feeling lonely.”

To his credit, Changkyun did not protest or complain. Instead he closed his expression, put on his calm, formal mask once more, and said, “Yes, Consort.”

The corridor outside the room was dark and still, and Kihyun could hear his pounding heart echo against the walls. He was doing the right thing. He knew that. If anyone learned of what happened it was more than his reputation at stake, it was his life. It was Changkyun’s life.

But as Changkyun put a hand on his waist to lead him through the empty darkness, Kihyun felt his heart clench in chest, and he nearly faltered.

“Thank you,” said Changkyun quietly, low voice soft and husky in the dark. “For being honest with me.”

Before Kihyun could reply, Changkyun let go and reached in front of him to push open the door. Light flooded in, blinding Kihyun temporarily, before his vision cleared and he saw Jaesoom, alert and waiting for him.

She must have seen something in his expression, for she asked, “Is everything alright, Consort?”

“Fine,” said Kihyun, a lie he had become used to repeating. “Come. Fourth Consort, I will see you later.”

Changkyun lowered his head slightly in a silent goodbye. Kihyun avoided his gaze before he turned around to leave.

 

The cakes were cloyingly sweet, leaving a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. The tea was harsh and bitter, like the leaves were old and had been burned before being steeped. No amount of honey could mask the taste.

Kihyun pushed away his cup. He had had enough.

He had chosen to have tea alone this afternoon. Minhyuk was having tea with Jooheon and Sojung, and Hyungwon was spending the afternoon with the king. Which would have left Kihyun alone with Changkyun.

He still spied Changkyun’s looks of masked longing at times. He knew Changkyun would not make a move without his permission, but Kihyun still tried to limit their interactions, particularly when none of the other consorts were present. He thought it kinder to Changkyun, and to himself, if he was being honest.

Kihyun chewed his lower lip. He could not believe Changkyun had hoped to have an affair with him. An affair! It went against all Kihyun stood for as a royal consort. It would shame Kihyun’s name, his family, his parents who were now with his ancestors and watching over him. It would be a betrayal of his title, his duty to the king and crown. It would be betraying Kihyun’s own self.

He could not believe he was considering it.

He knew Changkyun was right. No one would suspect anything. A consort had not been accused of treason in the past six generations, not since the reign of King Hoseok II. Times had changed since then. The culture of viewing fellow consorts as competition to eliminate was gone, in no small part due to Kihyun’s own efforts. Everyone knew he and Changkyun were close, that Changkyun preferred having conversations without servants present, not only with his fellow consorts but even with the Eigakese prince and bodyguard. Kihyun was not planning to bed him, either. He just wanted… him.

He justified it in countless ways. It was better for Changkyun’s emotional state. The more Changkyun’s mood flipped, the more suspicious the others got, so it would be better if they were stable. It would keep Kihyun’s thoughts from endlessly chasing Changkyun, and he would be more useful in managing household affairs. He would be able to concentrate better during court sessions, knowing he could seek Changkyun out afterwards, admire him as long as he desired. More and more, excuses that sounded almost reasonable, but were nothing more than delusions.

It was shameful Kihyun was even thinking of this. He was not going to do it. He was a consort, he had made his decision, and he would live with it until he died.

Until he died.

A knock at the door brought Kihyun back to reality. “Enter,” he called out, and a young man he recognized as one of Changkyun’s servants entered.

“First Consort,” he said, with a low bow. “The Fourth Consort asks if you would join him for tea, rather than eat alone.”

“I give him my gratitude, but I must decline,” said Kihyun. He had expected this. “I am almost done, after all.”

The man nodded, and for a moment his gaze flicked to the corner of the room. Instinctively Kihyun turned to follow his gaze, and saw seated in the corner one of his new maids. Her eyes were fixed on the servant, until she noticed Kihyun’s gaze and quickly lowered her head.

“I will relay the message, Consort,” said the young man, taking Kihyun’s attention once more. He bowed before leaving.

Once he was gone, Kihyun sat and thought things over in silence a minute. Then he turned to his new maid and asked, “What is your name?”

She started, surprised at being addressed directly, and hurriedly stood and bowed. “Sora,” she said, eyes down.

“I am sorry I had forgotten it,” said Kihyun, and Sora looked surprised again, probably at having a royal consort apologize to her. “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Consort,” said Sora, quickly bowing again.

“That young man who came in, do you know him?” asked Kihyun.

Sora hesitated, and then said finally, “Yes, Consort. We are to be married.”

“Arranged by your families or yourselves?”

The maid blushed. “Ourselves.”

“Congratulations,” said Kihyun sincerely.

“Thank you,” said Sora, but there was a touch of sadness in her voice.

It caught Kihyun’s attention, and he asked, “What is wrong? Do you regret your decision? It is not yet too late to refuse.”

“No, of course not,” said Sora, so quickly she looked Kihyun in the eye. She hurriedly lowered her head again, and mumbled, “I love him very much.”

“Then?” prompted Kihyun.

The girl chewed her lip, uncertain, and then finally gave in. “I hardly get any time to see him,” she said. “He is with the Fourth Consort until sunset, and I am with—with you, Consort.”

“And it would be improper to meet him at night,” said Kihyun.

Sora nodded. “I daren't ask him to work less since we're saving to get our own house,” she said. She wrung her hands. “But it… I miss him. It's not easy to be without the person you love.”

In a horrible, twisted way, Kihyun understood. “I see,” he said. “Thank you for telling me.”

The maid bowed once again, looking confused, and then joined the others in the corner. Kihyun sat at his table, mulling over his thoughts.

 

It was evening the following day when Kihyun requested Sora's presence. “I am going to see the Fourth Consort,” he said. “I want you to come with me.”

The girl joined his train of servants as they made their way to Changkyun’s rooms. Kihyun felt a soft shudder run down his spine at the sight of the bone-white walls and rich green garden. Every time he came here he lost another piece of his heart. He did not think he had any more left to give.

Changkyun was putting together an intricate standing wooden block puzzle when Kihyun entered with his coterie of servants. “Consort, you've come,” he said. Kihyun had sent a message beforehand. “Forgive me if I do not rise.”

“We are equal rank, there is no need to show such respect,” said Kihyun.

Changkyun shrugged, as though Kihyun had stated an opinion and not a fact, and asked, “What did you wish to see me about?”

He looked outwardly calm, but Kihyun could see it, that little bit of hope shining through a crack in the mask. His heart constricted in his chest.

“I have this maid, her name is Sora,” said Kihyun. “She is very capable. I want you to take her into your employ.” He could sense Sora's shock from behind him, but ignored it.

“She is already in your train, why would I employ her?” asked Changkyun, frowning in confusion. “You know I do not have much use of servants.”

“I know you let your servants sit together and enjoy each other's company when they are not busy,” said Kihyun. “She could do that when not working. I think she would be a better fit for you than me.”

Changkyun obviously did not understand, and raised an eyebrow. In response, Kihyun motioned to Sora's fiancé standing nearby.

The young man was glowing, almost bouncing with excitement. He was trying very hard to keep his expression neutral, but the smile kept breaking through.

Changkyun looked at him, and then past Kihyun, and at once a smile of understanding bloomed on his face. “Very well,” he said, beautiful smile lifting his voice. “She may join me. Kijeong, would you show her to her quarters?”

Sora's fiancé, Kijeong, gave a sharp, quick nod. “Of course, Consort,” he said. He bowed to him and Changkyun, and then left, Sora trailing behind. Kihyun watched them go, and caught Sora's quick glance back and mouthed words of gratitude. He smiled and nodded.

“Now how did you learn that story?” asked Changkyun once the two of them had gone.

“I just noticed,” said Kihyun, unable to keep the smile from his face. They had made two people happy, and it had cost nothing at all.

“Lovers?”

“Engaged,” said Kihyun. “How is he? As a servant?”

“Capable,” said Changkyun. “Though I admit I do not tax him too much.”

Kihyun nodded. “They are saving for a house,” he said. “If you would like to remember when it is time to give raises.”

“Hmm, good to know,” said Changkyun, and he burst into a full smile, like sunlight on the brightest summer day.

“I did not know you were such a romantic,” said Kihyun, still reeling from Changkyun’s smile. It was like a hit of some potent drug.

“Not exactly,” said Changkyun, still smiling. “I just like seeing people happy.”

Kihyun said nothing. The conversation was over, he knew. It should be over. He should thank Changkyun, say a farewell, and leave. He knew he should.

But he knew just as well he would not. Of all his delusions, the most addictive had been the belief he could stay away from Changkyun. That his will was strong enough to overcome the whispers in his heart, that he would never again cross the line written in the stone of Yishin's first laws.

He recognized it now for the fantasy it was. Kihyun would never be able to keep away from Changkyun. The proof was before his eyes, as he hovered where he was, desperately trying to think of an excuse to stay with Changkyun, talk with him, be with him.

“Do you need any help with that?” asked Kihyun.

Changkyun blinked, surprised, and then looked down at the puzzle. “You may join if you wish,” he said.

Kihyun did. He dismissed most of his accompanying train, leaving only Hyemi, his longest-serving woman, and Donghyuk, whose turn it was to guard him. Then he sat down crosslegged on the mat beside Changkyun, and looked at him for guidance.

“Every piece is unique,” said Changkyun, handing a wooden piece to Kihyun. Kihyun felt lightning run across his skin as their fingers briefly touched. “If put together correctly, they will form a wooden figure or statue.”

“A statue of what?” asked Kihyun. Changkyun’s knee was right beside his.

“I don't know,” said Changkyun. “That is part of the puzzle.”

“Then how are you supposed to put it together?” asked Kihyun. “What if you put a piece in the wrong place? These two are almost identical.” He held up two nearby pieces as evidence.

“If we put one in the wrong place, it's ruined,” said Changkyun simply. “One wrong piece and the puzzle comes out wrong.”

“Aren’t you worried?” asked Kihyun. “What if you've put one in the wrong place and are now building over it? You will not know until the end.”

Changkyun shrugged. “Then I knock it over, and start again,” he said. “It is just a puzzle.”

It was good reasoning, and Kihyun could not argue against that. Changkyun went back to silently comparing pieces against the growing tower, and Kihyun chipped in occasionally, trying a few until one fit. He turned to Changkyun with a questioning look. Changkyun nodded, smiling, and then looked for a piece to fit on top.

His free hand was right beside Kihyun, in the gap guarded by their almost-touching knees. The large, fanned out sleeve covered his hand completely, but Kihyun could see the outline of his hand, showing through the peacock blue silk.

Smoothly, keeping his eyes fixed on the puzzle, Kihyun put his hand on Changkyun’s.

Changkyun did not jump, but his eyes widened. He turned to look at Kihyun, question swimming in his dark eyes. Kihyun did not answer with his words but with his own gaze. He put everything he could not say into his eyes, and hoped Changkyun understood.

He could not stay away from Changkyun, and he was weary of trying.

The corner of Changkyun’s lips curled up into a small, secret smile. He discreetly shook the sleeve off his hand, and took Kihyun’s hand in his. Kihyun felt a rush go through him at the feeling of Changkyun’s hand around his, warm skin on skin, and fought hard to keep his expression neutral. His maroon sleeve fanned out, hiding their linked hands, keeping their secret only between the two of them.

Smiles kept breaking out on Changkyun’s face, no matter how hard he tried to keep them under control. Kihyun glanced at him, feeling fondness bloom in his chest and rise up.

The completed puzzle was a bouquet of flowers, every piece perfectly placed.


	14. Queen of Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I look into the future, and all I see is black.
> 
> From a diary kept in the ninth year of King Hakyeon's reign  
>  Taekwoon, High Prince to King Hakyeon, First and Founding King of Yishin

The messenger was a woman, young, neither beautiful nor ugly, with shiny black hair pulled back into a prim bun. Her robes were forest green and unusually tight, clinging to her lean, shapely body. There was no space for any concealed weapons.

Kim Sungil took it all in in a glance, posture as relaxed as ever. There was no danger here. Even if there were, he would have been able to eliminate it in a moment.

The woman rose from her bow, back straight, skin slightly flushed. Kim Sungil was not surprised. His new employer had that effect on most people.

Han Jehan smiled. “Shinkyung,” he said, tone warm. “I am glad to see you back. What news from Lord Shin?”

“He sends his greetings,” said Shinkyung. “He wishes to thank you for seeing his point of view, and agrees his action may have been too rash.”

“Rash is certainly one word for it,” said Han Jehan. “Very well, I will send you back with another message in a few days. You may rest.”

Shinkyung bowed, and left the room. “The Eigakese are so impatient,” said Han Jehan, once she had gone.

“And so shortsighted,” sighed his guest.

She was a woman, of the same age as the minister or slightly older. Her body was draped in luxurious silks of fiery red, her hair pulled back with a ruby coronet and spilling past her shoulders. She took another sip of her tea, lacquered red nails contrasting sharply against the earthen cup.

“They seek war, and ultimately their own demise,” she said. “This Lord Shin must know Yishin surpasses Eigak both economically and militarily.”

“Perhaps,” said Han Jehan. “He does not seem too great a fool, however.”

“Sending an assassin so brazenly?” she snorted. “Seems rather foolish to me.”

“He achieved what he desired,” said Han Jehan, taking his cup. “The court has been opened to the possibility of war, and I have seen ministers from differing factions agreeing on this aspect. Do not be so quick to underestimate, Lady Choi.”

“But why war?” asked the lady. “Their army is disorganized, their own court divided. It would end in misery for Eigak.”

“Perhaps he is not considering Eigak’s interests, but his own,” said Han Jehan quietly, taking a sip. It was good tea, Kim Sungil knew. He had been given a gift of it a moon back, when the shipment had first arrived from Seirk.

“Money?” Lady Choi raised a perfect eyebrow.

Han Jehan took his time, taking a long, measured sip, and then placing the cup on the wooden table carefully. “Money, or increased power in a weakened state,” he said. “Either way, I will not discourage him, not when his interests are compatible with mine.”

Lady Choi pondered this, pursing her lips. She was noble, Kim Sungil knew, but her family was uninvolved in politics, and only distant relations sat court. He wondered briefly what had led her to this unlikely friendship. Seduction? It was possible. Han Jehan appeared to have a natural talent at it.

“I do not think he is a fool,” said Han Jehan, fingering the lip of his cup. “He was able to accurately pinpoint where the king is weak.”

“The consorts?” Lady Choi scoffed. “Everyone knows the king relies on them, perhaps more than he ought to.”

Han Jehan simply looked at her. He was thinking, and he did not consider her worthy of hearing what about.

There was a knock on the doorframe, and upon the minister calling out for them to enter, a young man came in. Kim Sungil knew him as Taejin, one of Han Jehan’s trusted servants, but he still swept his eyes over him, seeking any hidden weapons.

“My lord,” said Taejin, with a deep bow. “I have returned from Jang Shingi’s compound. There have been inquiries into his business, how he operates and who he works with.”

“Which would make him the third such business partner of mine to receive such inquiries,” said Han Jehan, a slight smile touching the corner of his lips. “Thank you, Taejin. You have done well. Please go see Sobin; I have received peaches from Minister Jung and I think you have earned a few.”

“Thank you, my lord,” said Taejin, bowing low.

“Someone’s interested in you, Jehan,” said Lady Choi amusedly, once the servant was gone.

“Yes, and I already know whom,” said Han Jehan. He turned to Kim Sungil, smiling, and said, “You frightened the First Consort.”

“I said and did nothing unusual,” said Kim Sungil.

“Your aura is enough, it seems,” said Han Jehan in faux reproach. He smiled, and Kim Sungil allowed the corners of his lips to rise slightly in return.

“I thought the First Consort dealt with court matters,” said Lady Choi.

“Yes, this is most certainly Consort Minhyuk’s work, but at Consort Kihyun’s direction,” said Han Jehan. He paused. “It is quite irritating.”

“It is,” said Lady Choi, leaning forward eagerly. A bloodthirsty gleam shone in her eye.

“I had planned to do nothing,” said Han Jehan. “I had thought to discourage Lord Shin on his obsession with the royal consorts. There are plenty of ways of destabilizing the crown, after all. Consort Kihyun is being unduly rude to me, I feel. I only sent Sungil to gauge his reaction.”

“Very rude,” said Lady Choi, almost urging. Kim Sungil could see now what had drawn the lady to Minister Han, and it was not his handsome face or smooth words. She was attracted to the side he kept hidden.

“He is getting ideas above his station,” said Han Jehan thoughtfully. “I believe it is time he remembered his place.”

Lady Choi smiled, red lips spreading to reveal white teeth.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

The sun's rays were on him, warming his skin, drawing him from sleep. He could feel arms around him, and he stretched and curled into that familiar warmth. The thin coverlet slid down his bare back and he whined as he missed its warmth. A deep, rich chuckle tickled his ear, and the bedding was placed back. He kept his eyes closed, trying to drift back into dreams, but it was too late.

Hyungwon was awake.

He cracked a eye open, and was greeted with a blurry view of Hoseok’s chest. “Time,” he groaned.

“Late,” said Hoseok, smile obvious in his voice.

“Late for you or for me?” asked Hyungwon, stretching.

“When is it ever late for you?” Hoseok laughed.

Hyungwon craned his neck to shoot him a sleepy, acidic look. Hoseok simply laughed again, and he looked so beautiful Hyungwon could not even feign annoyance. Instead he harrumphed and turned, so that his back was to him.

“We must rise soon,” said Hoseok, embracing Hyungwon from behind, leaving butterfly-light kisses on his neck.

“Nothing is _must_ for you,” said Hyungwon. He did not want to get up. It was his favorite time of the day, these mornings, when the fantasies of his dreams blended into the fantasies of reality.

“Court convenes in two hours,” Hoseok said into Hyungwon’s hair.

“Let them,” said Hyungwon, and he knew it was childish but he did not care. A few minutes more. That was all he wished for, all he ever wished for.

“Court cannot begin without the king,” said Hoseok, chuckling.

And there it was. The fantasy faded, and only reality remained. “Go, then,” said Hyungwon, affecting a casual air.

“As though I could go without my lovely consort,” said Hoseok.

Without warning his arms tightened around Hyungwon, and he yanked him up and upright. Hyungwon squawked in surprise as the sheets slid down and off his body.

“Hoseok,” he hissed, scrambling for bedding to cover himself.

“What’s wrong?” said Hoseok with a laugh. “What is the use of preserving your modesty? It is just me.”

But it was not just Hoseok. Attendants stood nearby, carrying trays laden with dainties and refreshment lest the king require them. Maids hovered by the bed, ready to take the king to his prepared bath. Others stood ready with robes and other clothing.

Hoseok was kind and generous, but he was raised royalty. The nobility tended to forget the servants were people of their own, which Hyungwon found unfathomable but knew to be common. He did not blame Hoseok too much.

“I am already late, I must go,” said Hoseok, giving Hyungwon one last kiss before climbing out of bed. “I expect to see you at the court session on time, Consort.”

The use of title was a twinge in Hyungwon’s heart. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he said with mock reverence. Hoseok laughed at that, sunny and unrestrained as ever, and then let himself be whisked away to his bath.

Hyungwon watched him go. Then he waited until all the servants left, and climbed out of Hoseok’s bed.

He washed and got dressed, allowing his attendant Joori to choose whichever outfit she thought best as he had a quick breakfast. He was not sleepy but he missed the bed, the sweetness of those moments. They always ended too soon. Hoseok again became king of Yishin, and Hyungwon one of his consorts.

Joori chose robes of rich burgundy and maroon, and they suited Hyungwon well enough. He made his way to the passages behind the court hall. The other consorts were there, but from their expressions Hyungwon could see they had not been waiting long.

Minhyuk looked a vision in blue, like a spirit of seafoam and clear waves. “You are late,” he said, almost gleefully. “Trouble rising? Sore back?”

Hyungwon ignored him, instead turning to Changkyun. “Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” returned Changkyun. “How is your back, Third Consort?” Kihyun snorted.

“Children,” muttered Hyungwon. Minhyuk, in particular. He could forgive Changkyun, as they all considered him a child regardless of actual age, but Minhyuk was supposed to be an adult.

Gods, Minhyuk really was beautiful, with his bright smile, his sparkling eyes. Hyungwon felt oddly proud to not only know him, but to be his friend. Not only him, but the others as well. Kihyun, so sharp, so dedicated. Changkyun and his unique personality, his lovely heart. Hyungwon loved them all.

A commotion behind him drew Hyungwon’s attention, and he turned to see Hoseok enter. He was dressed in his official kingly raiment, the robes of red with gold emblem. A spot of black sat in the center of his chest, a nod to the crest of the first king of Yishin.

The consorts fell in-step behind him, Kihyun and Minhyuk in front, Hyungwon and Changkyun behind. Hyungwon had always been grateful for the arrangement. He hated court sessions, standing on the dais so open and exposed to so many eyes. He had never been used to an audience, not unless he was dancing.

All the ministers and courtiers rose as Hoseok entered, only sitting once he was seated. Hyungwon stood by the throne, glad for the shield of Minhyuk’s body. The session was started, discussion turning to budgeting affairs. Hyungwon barely paid attention, although he noticed Kihyun commented more than once.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to the education reforms, and now Hyungwon listened.

“Preparations for the civil service examination are completed,” said Min Shiyin, minister of education. The special extra examination Hoseok had called for was in less than a week. “There have been many applications.”

“That is good news,” said Hoseok. It always struck Hyungwon how much his voice changed when he was heading court.

“I fear most of the examinees will do poorly,” said Min Shiyin carefully. “They do not appear very… skilled.”

“Understandable, it is a zero-loss opportunity,” said Kihyun. “I think perhaps in the future we should introduce an application fee. Nothing too restrictive, just enough to ensure no one takes the examination simply for fun.”

Minhyuk snorted. “Who thinks taking examinations is fun?”

A titter ran through the court, and many courtiers smiled. Minhyuk had always been popular, not only because he was witty and friendly, but because he was acceptable—rich before consortship, of good family, not overly interested in politics.

“A good idea, Kihyun,” said Hoseok. He turned to Min Shiyin and said, “Please make sure to implement it before the next examination.” The minister bowed.

“Your Majesty, I must admit I still have doubts about this initiative,” said a man, some minister from the second circle whose name Hyungwon did not know. “I doubt any of the peasantry will pass. Rather, it reduces the respect held by the posts, letting just anyone apply.”

Hyungwon was ready to rest a calming hand on Hoseok’s, but he did not need to. Hoseok laughed and said, “Reducing respect? By allowing all worthy candidates to try?”

“We are not only opening the examination for the… peasantry,” said Kihyun. “There are many who are educated but not noble. Merchants without the money to buy a title, to give but one example.” He sounded tense, and Hyungwon understood why. He had a personal stake in this.

“The civil service posts have always been held in high regard,” insisted the minister. “This is sullying their name.”

“Disallowing qualified candidates is not a mark of honor,” said another minister, and this one Hyungwon did know. It was the newest member of the first circle, the handsome one. Han Jehan.

The second circle minister spluttered. “B—but—the peasantry—” he managed to say.

“Should be given a chance to improve their position,” said Han Jehan calmly. “If they are worthy, they may now earn it.”

There was a sense of finality to his tone. And sure enough, the second circle minister sat down, protesting no further.

“Well said, Minister Han,” said Hoseok, and it was obvious his appreciation was genuine. “In any case, this matter has already passed court vote, so there is no point in discussing it further. Unless any member of the court wishes to call another vote?”

None did. Satisfied, Hoseok smiled, and nodded to the crier to move onto the next issue on the agenda.

More discussion on budgeting, more talk on replenishing the royal coffers. Hyungwon made a note to talk to Hoseok about reducing the royal household’s expenses the next night he was called for, at least for his own peace of mind. They lived in lavish excess, nearly drowning in luxury, while the grain stores in case of disaster or famine were running low. Everyone Hyungwon interacted with was either royal or noble, and they never found the expenditure excessive.

Finally, as the session dragged to an end and Hyungwon was ready to cheer with relief, someone brought up the topic of Jooheon’s visit. “His Highness has made no indication to leave?” asked one courtier, careful.

“No,” said Hoseok cheerfully. “Prince Jooheon will remain with us for the foreseeable future. Any further questions?”

It was obvious he was not welcome to further questions. The courtier bowed and took his seat, and Hoseok turned to the crier to call the session over.

Finally, finally, the session was ended, and they could leave the hall. Hoseok walked in front, as always, Hyunwoo to one side and the consorts following behind. Hyungwon kept his chin up, trying to look noble and composed. As they passed the curved rows of standing courtiers, he caught the eye of Yeon Hu. He knew the old general did not like him, thought him a blight on the honored position of consort, but was too professional to speak of it openly. Hyungwon was grateful to the old man, not only for the respectful behavior, but also for never divulging what he had been before he was consort. Though that was more for Hoseok’s sake than his own, and they both knew it.

As soon as they were outside the hall they broke formation, and Hoseok held out his hand. Hyungwon rolled his eyes but obediently went forward to take it.

“The education initiative remains unpopular,” commented Minhyuk. He motioned to one of his many waiting servants, and took a peacock feather fan from her.

“I expected nothing less,” said Kihyun. “Still, my courtiers remain loyal with me, and from what I have heard General Yeon Hu is allowing his to vote as they wish. The initiative has passed, and will remain passed.”

“Good, because I expect good things from this,” said Hoseok, giving Hyungwon’s hand a brief, possibly subconscious squeeze.

“I have no doubt you will be proved correct,” said Kihyun confidently.

“How are his preparations coming along?” asked Minhyuk. “Your servant… what was his name again?”

“Sewoon,” said Kihyun lightly. “His name is Sewoon, and he is no longer my servant. He will soon be a civil service officer.”

“You’re very invested in his future,” said Hyungwon.

Without warning, Changkyun said, “He went to the temple to light candles for his success.”

Kihyun whirled on him, looking betrayed. Minhyuk and Hoseok both laughed, while Changkyun smiled proudly. Hyunwoo grinned too.

“I want him to do well, is that a crime?” said Kihyun, pink in the ears.

“No, it is very sweet,” said Minhyuk, almost cooing. “You’ve half adopted him.”

“You can adopt Prince Jooheon, and I cannot do the same with Sewoon?” shot back Kihyun.

“I did not adopt Jooheon,” said Minhyuk indignantly. “He is my friend, I am not parenting him as you are with Sewoon.”

“I am not parenting Sewoon,” said Kihyun. “I am helping him realize his full potential.”

“Sounds like parenting,” said Minhyuk, triumphant.

“And cooing over his every action does not?”

“It is not parenting, it is adoring!”

“If we’re adopting boys, I’ll take Changkyun,” volunteered Hyungwon.

Hoseok laughed at that, while Changkyun blinked coquettishly. Kihyun shot him a look of heavy disapproval, and then resumed his argument with Minhyuk.

They had an early lunch, a large meal spent with Minhyuk and Changkyun discussing art. Hyungwon was glad in ways he could not describe that the Fourth Consort was happy in the household. It had been difficult for him at the beginning, just as it had been difficult for Hyungwon, and Hyungwon regretted not being more sympathetic. The journey back to the capital must have been horrible for Changkyun.

Kihyun had warmed up to the Fourth Consort, and was now quite close to him. Hyungwon had worried about it, but Hoseok had confided he was certain it would work out. “He will adore Changkyun in the end, take my word for it,” he had said. He had been right.

With lunch over, they all rose to attend to their own matters. Minhyuk and Changkyun left together, still talking about art, possibly to go to Changkyun’s secret rooms. Hyungwon had been in there a few times, and it had been strangely exciting, being somewhere so private in so public a place as the royal compound. Hoseok decided to go speak to Jooheon, and from his tone Hyungwon understood it was to be a friendly conversation. Hyungwon was feeling too lazy to join him, and was ready to retire to his room for a brief nap.

“Hyungwon, would you mind speaking to me for awhile?” asked Kihyun, as Hyungwon set off for his rooms.

“If we can talk while walking, certainly,” said Hyungwon, and Kihyun joined him down the hallway.

“Do you like your chambers, Consort?” asked Kihyun, seemingly innocent.

“They are alright,” said Hyungwon, suddenly on-guard. “Why?”

“They are rather far from the center of the building,” said Kihyun. “Mine are right beside the king’s. Would you like to exchange?”

“I’m sorry, exchange what?” Hyungwon was surprised. “Rooms?”

“Yes,” said Kihyun. “It is quite hectic, and I was hoping to move somewhere quieter. I would have asked Changkyun, but he has modified his chambers so heavily it would be cruel to ask him to move.”

“I am not very fond of the hustle and bustle either,” said Hyungwon.

“I know,” said Kihyun. “I simply thought, because my rooms are right beside Hoseok’s… it is you who most often goes to him at night…”

It was an effective little thing to hang in front of Hyungwon’s face, being close to Hoseok. “Moving is such a bother,” said Hyungwon, but he had already agreed, and they both knew it.

“I will handle all of that,” said Kihyun soothingly. “When should I arrange it?”

“Next week will be alright, I think,” said Hyungwon.

“Wonderful,” said Kihyun, beaming. “Thank you, Hyungwon. You have really helped me.”

“It is no problem,” said Hyungwon, and it really was not. He did enjoy the calm, but the walk to Hoseok’s rooms was a pain. Besides, he had doors, how bad could it be? If anything, he wondered what had suddenly made Kihyun want to change.

But the First Consort did not say, he simply smiled and left. Hyungwon thought nothing more of it and retired to his bedroom.

As ever, his attendant and guard knew better than to follow him, and left him at the doorway. He entered, bent down to spread his bedding, and as he did his gaze caught on the small wooden box he kept on a low table.

A vei deck was inside, the old, worn one Hyungwon used most often. He had not taken it out for moons, not since the reading he had conducted with the other consorts. Even the thought of it settled a heavy weight on his chest. Memories of the event replayed in Hyungwon’s mind, as clear as the day they happened. The aura in the room. The interruption. The cards.

He had not liked the cards then, and he hated them even more now. He wanted to conduct another reading, simply to put the past one behind him, but he could not. He was scared. He was scared the same cards would appear once more, would prove themselves to be their fate.

The thought of it made Hyungwon sick. And so he shunned the vei deck, let it sit in its box. It could keep its secrets.

Hyungwon lay down and tried to think of neither the past nor the future.

 

That night, Hyungwon sat and waited.

He told himself he was not waiting, that he was reading the book he had in front of him, a bit of reading before he retired to bed. But his eyes did not settle on the page, and his focus was elsewhere. His ears strained for the sound of footsteps beyond the door.

He was waiting, as he waited every night. He was waiting to be chosen.

There was a sound outside the door, and Hyungwon tensed, before willing himself to relax. He waited, one minute, two, but the door did not slide open. There was no one there. No one had come to call him.

Hoseok had not called for him.

There were many possible reasons why. Perhaps he was tired, and had fallen asleep as soon as he lay down. Perhaps he had decided he wanted to sleep alone for a night. But Hyungwon knew they were nothing but delusions. Hoseok always needed someone at night, someone to hold close and curl up against. Tonight he had decided that person would not be Hyungwon.

Hyungwon sat up awhile longer, just to convince himself he truly had not been waiting. He read a few more lines of his book. He undid his hair, combed through it a few times. His gaze strayed to the wooden box, and he wrenched it away once more.

With everything done, he finally lay down. Hyungwon closed his eyes and went to sleep, alone.

 

“Are you listening?”

The loud words snapped Hyungwon back to reality. He looked around blankly. “What?”

Jooheon shot him an unimpressed look. It was scarily close to a pout, but Hyungwon did not yet feel ready to describe the crown prince of Eigak as pouting. “I _said_ ,” said Jooheon, “gardening is not a hobby, it is a chore.”

“Some people enjoy it,” said Sojung, the prince’s guard. “That makes it a hobby for them.”

“They have deceived themselves into enjoying it,” insisted Jooheon. “That is not the same thing as truly enjoying it.”

Sojung gave Hyungwon a resigned, long-suffering look. Hyungwon burst into laughter, almost doubling over.

It was his turn to entertain the prince this afternoon, and he was glad to do so. Prince Jooheon was friendly, humorous, and his actions and words felt sincere. Perhaps most importantly, he was comfortable to be around, and easy to jest with. His relaxed attitude with his bodyguard had especially warmed Hyungwon to him.

“The Third Consort agrees with me,” said Jooheon, urging Hyungwon to speak up.

Sojung snorted. “I’m sorry, that laughter sounded like agreement to you?”

Jooheon sniffed, and took a sip of his tea, obviously at a loss for a return remark. As he raised the cup his sleeve slipped down his forearm, revealing a woven bracelet with an unusual large red crystal hanging off it.

“That is a nice bracelet,” commented Hyungwon.

Jooheon followed Hyungwon’s line of sight to the crystal at his wrist. “Ah, thank you,” he said. “A friend made it for me.”

“It is very unique,” said Hyungwon. “We don’t often get crystals of that size.”

“Neither do we,” said Jooheon with a smile. “Advantages of being royalty, I suppose.” He slipped the bracelet off his wrist and held it out for Hyungwon, who took it after a moment’s hesitation.

The bracelet itself was made of numerous loops of worn leather, bound together. It looked worn, as though Jooheon wore it often and in every weather. The leather itself was good quality, but otherwise unremarkable. The crystal was beautiful. Up close Hyungwon could see now that it was not simply red, but a mix of red and amber, like a fiery sunset after a hot day. He held it up to his eye and could nigh imagine seeing heat move inside, swirling in hot mists and smoky spirals.

“It is lovely,” said Hyungwon, handing the bracelet back.

“Thank you,” said Jooheon. “There is a spell of protection on it.”

Hyungwon raised an eyebrow. “A spell?”

“The magic in the earth is much diminished here,” said Jooheon, with a cryptic smile. “It is fading away back home as well, but there is still enough to be worked by sorcerers and witches—in secret, of course.”

“But you have a sorcerer in your court?” asked Hyungwon. He had heard it before, of course, of Eigak being a country of magic and sorcery, where magic-users ran wild. Some dismissed the talk as fanciful stories, but others believed, and whispered them in taverns and drinking houses. It was often said with a hint of distaste, as though the Eigakese were primitive in continuing to use magic and the Yishini were civilized, when the truth was all the remnant magic in Yishin had run off in the age of the First King.

“We do, but Dawon—who did the spell—is my personal sorcerer,” said Jooheon. He seemed to have read Hyungwon’s thoughts off his face for he added, “It is not a glamorous job. Her main work is to weave protection spells for me.”

“And terrorize any who dare try to harm her, of course,” said Sojung, but she said it as though she viewed it the same way she viewed Jooheon’s arguments on gardening.

“That is interesting,” said Hyungwon. “I did not know sorcerers were held in high esteem in Eigak.”

“Not most of them, no,” said Jooheon. “There is a tendency to mistrust them. But it cannot be denied they are a great asset for anyone to have. I myself attempted sorcery when I was younger, but I did not have the talent.”

Hyungwon nodded. “Does the spell work?” he asked, motioning to the bracelet. “Here in Yishin? I had heard magic was fueled by its surroundings.”

“You heard correctly,” said Jooheon, sounding impressed. “It is weaker here, but some of Dawon’s residual energy remains in the crystal. Something about the crystalline structure helps it to retain energy.”

It was fascinating. It struck Hyungwon he had never learned much about magic despite, in a way, being entangled with it his entire life. He had discovered his own gift with the vei at an early age, from the first moment he had first felt the deck beneath his fingers. He would have to look through the library for more books. Perhaps Changkyun could help.

“Thank you for answering my questions,” said Hyungwon. “It is all very interesting.”

“It is not bother,” said Jooheon. He paused, and then said, “If ever you should come to Eigak, I can introduce you to Dawon personally. She would be thrilled to tell you all you wish to know.”

Hyungwon blinked, not knowing how to answer. As consort, he would not be allowed to leave Yishin unless he was accompanying the king. No sitting Yishini king had visited Eigak in generations. It sounded like an open invitation, but it smelled like politics. Hyungwon did not like politics.

But the prince’s face looked honest, his expression open. There was no trace of second intent on his face, and Hyungwon had read more faces than cards in his life.

“Alright,” he said. “If I go, I would love to meet her.”

Jooheon smiled at that, eyes crescenting and dimples appearing.

 

Hyungwon sat in his room and waited.

He had a new book, one Changkyun had obtained for him. “I can get more for you in a few days,” the Fourth Consort had said. “This is the only one I can think of at this moment. I hope it is alright.”

It was an old book, pages brown and worn but not crumbling under Hyungwon’s fingertips. He traced the words, lips pursed, trying to make sense of the flowery, archaic language. There were references to the First King, proving the book had been written after the magic was already gone.

Hyungwon wondered how potent magic was in Eigak. The prince had said it was fading, but there was still enough to weave spells. If ever the royal entourage went there, Hyungwon could get gems for the other consorts, enchanted with spells to protect them. Spells to keep them safe, hidden from whatever ill energy waited beyond the horizon. It did not matter that there was little to fuel the spells in Yishin. Hyungwon could make the vei work, surely he could do the same for a few crystals? If it meant the safety of the others, he would do it, no matter the cost.

A sound at the door startled Hyungwon, and he quickly turned. He expected to find Jungjun there, calling for his presence, a look of thinly-veiled pity on his face. It was not the young servant.

“Hoseok,” said Hyungwon, getting up. “What are you doing here?”

“I decided to sleep here, for once,” said Hoseok, closing the door behind him. He was already dressed in his sleeping clothes, hair in a loose twist at the back of his head. “Kihyun told me you were exchanging rooms. He plans on turning your writing room into his bedroom, so I will not have many more opportunities.”

“Did he tell you why he wants to exchange?” asked Hyungwon, setting his book aside.

“No,” said Hoseok, unbothered. He climbed into Hyungwon’s bed, getting comfortable.

“It is because he wants to escape you,” teased Hyungwon. “He told me you snore so loudly he can hear you all the way from his bedroom.”

Hoseok laughed. “Certainly, and that is why he chose to exchange with you, as you sleep like a felled tree,” he said. “Now will you come to bed or not? I am sleepy.”

“Not,” said Hyungwon, fighting the smile on his face. “I was busy before you strode in, completely unannounced, might I add.”

Hoseok grabbed Hyungwon’s nightshirt and yanked him into bed. “No more talking,” he said, holding him firmly. “Only sleep.”

“Yes, alright, only sleep,” said Hyungwon, surrendering. “Now please let go of me so I can get more comfortable.”

There was a bit of grumbling, but Hoseok let go, enough for Hyungwon to blow the candle out and slide underneath the covers. Immediately afterwards he wrapped his arms around him once more, holding him close. It made Hyungwon smile, and he closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.

 

Hyungwon woke in the middle of the night.

There was no jolt, no nightmare to break. He was sleeping, and then he was not, eyes open and staring at the dark ceiling. Beside him Hoseok slept as soundly as ever, but Hyungwon felt as though he had never slept at all.

He tossed and turned, but his body refused to obey. Sleep, which was always so easy and sweet to fall into, evaded him. Finally, giving up, Hyungwon rose.

There was a light chill in the air, nipping at his skin uncovered by his sleeping attire, more chilly than would be expected for a summer night. Hyungwon rolled his sleeves down his arms, looking around. The window was open, letting the light of the half moon flood in. The moonlight, too, seemed brighter than it should be, until Hyungwon thought he could pick out every detail in front of him, down to woven threads of his expensive silk nightshirt.

His gaze drifted over the room, before catching on a low table in a corner. A low table of wood so dark it was black in the moonlight, and on it a black box containing the future.

Hyungwon’s gut twisted. The box called to him. The vei called to him.

He moved towards it, one step, then another. He found himself standing in front of the table, box already in his hands, latch open.

The light was best in front of the window, and Hyungwon took the box there, setting it on the floor and sitting cross-legged before it. A shiver ran down his spine as he dragged his fingers over the top of the box, but he knew it was already too late to turn back.

He opened the box and lifted the deck out. The card on top was slightly dislodged, and out of curiosity, Hyungwon flipped it face up.

Two of Stars. Disgusted, Hyungwon tossed the card aside. He had seen its face too many times.

He was always tied to his past. He tried to leave it behind, but it stuck to his back, to his feet, an ever present shadow. All the fears and insecurities that had bloomed from that time, Hyungwon had carried into his new life.

The same card had appeared during that fateful reading so long ago, when Hyungwon had last handled the deck. Its appearance had not shaken him—rather, he had expected it. The other cards were the ones that weighed heavily on him, even now.

Hyungwon held the deck face up and started sifting through the cards. He continued until he saw one that gave him pause.

Grave. Minhyuk had picked this card, his second after the Page, the icon of diligence. The combination sowed seeds of disquiet in Hyungwon. Unlike other cards, there was no aspect of renewal to Grave. All it was was an end. That it had come in conjunction with the Page could mean one of two things: the diligence of the subject would come to an end, or the diligence of the subject would bring about an end.

Both interpretations left a sick taste in Hyungwon’s mouth. Minhyuk had but one main duty in his life, and that was to be consort to Hoseok.

Consortship was a duty until death.

Minhyuk’s third card had been nine of Shells, symbolizing a new environment. Hyungwon had not received a good energy from the card. The vei was not chronologically forward, and Hyungwon felt as though the nine of Shells did not come after Grave, but rather during, or in the lead up to it. Grave was the end.

Hyungwon put aside the card, but gently. He continued looking through the cards, until he found the Pyramid. It was upside-down, the same alignment it had shown for Kihyun. Instability was in his future. Hyungwon visualized Minhyuk as the sun energy of the household, but Kihyun was the earth. He was their bedrock, and he would be facing uncertain times.

Eight of Knives, another of Kihyun’s cards, showed its face, but Hyungwon did not dwell overly much. Uncertain times brought difficult decisions. The nine of Shells showed its face, as did the Page, and then the ace of Scrolls.

This had been one of Changkyun’s cards. Hyungwon’s stomach turned as he remembered the Fourth Consort’s interruption, how he had poisoned an already heavy atmosphere. He put the card on his steadily-growing pile, praying to every spirit and deity that would listen to spare them from what he had brought on.

Six of Rings, nine of Flowers, the Fox. Hyungwon went through them all, barely registering the painted images, until he came to one that gave him pause. Most of the pictures were simple, but this had more detail. It depicted a woman with long black hair, crouched on the floor, reaching for rings scattered about her feet.

It was the Queen of Rings. Envy.

Hyungwon’s mouth twisted with distaste. He had seen this card in every reading he had conducted for himself. It was like a parasite, latching onto his soul, sinking its sharp white teeth as far as they would go. He had picked it so often it had almost become a signifier, his own representation in the deck.

He tossed the card aside. It slid across the varnished wooden floor, out of the direct moonlight but still in sight. Hyungwon tore his attention away from it and back to the cards. He resumed going through them, looking at the Knives’ two, Scrolls’ eight, Flowers’ six. He kept going, on and on, until his eyes caught on a card that froze him.

Seven black circles on white, interlocked. Seven of Rings.

A secret desire.

The picture before him was simple, but in Hyungwon’s mind’s eye floated the detailed, intricate image Minhyuk had painted, the one he had pulled during that reading. It was a man, dressed in black and white, dancing and tossing rings in the air. His hair was unbound, black and smooth like silk, cascading past his shoulders. The man was looking right into Hyungwon’s eyes, and he was smiling.

A secret desire fulfilled.

Hyungwon did not deceive himself. There was only one thing he wanted, one thing he had ever wanted. One thing so foolish, so selfish and impossible, that he had never spoken of it to anyone.

He wanted to be Hoseok’s only one.

He wanted Hoseok to give him all his heart, as Hyungwon had given his. He wanted to be the only one Hoseok held close at night, the only one he whispered his deepest thoughts and heart to. Hyungwon knew he was the favorite, but it was not enough, it would never be enough. He did not want to be the favorite among four, knowing there was always a chance of even more joining. He wanted to be the one.

This was Hyungwon’s secret desire, and the thought of it coming true chilled his blood to ice.

Consortship was a title until death.

A wave of nausea hit as he remembered the assassin that had attacked. Kihyun suspected the attacker had targeted the consorts, most likely to sow chaos. All consorts but Hyungwon had been there. He would have been the only consort left. If the assassin had succeeded, if the assassin had managed to—

Hyungwon ended the thought before it went any further, throwing him onto the paths of guilt and self-loathing he had traversed too many times before. If anything had happened Hyungwon would have never forgiven himself. He had brought it forth, he knew, in some unspoken, inexplicable way. His desire could only come true with the loss of his fellow consorts—his _family_ —and still he had indulged it, in daydreams when he was alone, in scenes he had fantasized before he fell asleep, thinking only of the destination and not the journey it would take to get there. It had been excusable before, because Hyungwon knew it was impossible.

But the dancing man in black and white had smiled at him, and it was a smile with a promise.

Hyungwon would be the only consort.

But there was only one path to that promise.

Consortship was a title until death.

With a shaking hand, Hyungwon placed the card aside. The next few cards were unimportant, some stirring old memories, others brushing against his subconscious but with no real energy. He kept shuffling through the cards, putting some aside more carefully than others, until he reached him.

The Emperor had inky black skin in every version of the vei. In this common deck he was hardly anything more than a figure of black dressed in expensive clothes, stars dotting the sky beyond. Hyungwon peered at the image, trying to find a face, a look, any indication that the coming times were not as desperate as they seemed.

Something rested on his shoulder, and Hyungwon jumped and whirled around. Hoseok looked at him, eyes still heavy with sleep, but with a decidedly concerned expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Can’t sleep?”

“I woke up,” said Hyungwon, as though that explained everything.

Hoseok hummed, a slow, sleepy sound. “Could you come back to bed now?” he asked, putting an arm around Hyungwon and resting his head on his shoulder. “I missed you.”

Hyungwon’s heart tightened in his chest. “Yes, I am coming,” he said. He nudged Hoseok’s chin with a hand, and Hoseok obligingly raised his head to press a soft kiss to Hyungwon’s cheek. He then straightened and reached past Hyungwon to help him with the scattered cards, but Hyungwon brushed his hand aside. “I can do it, I will join you in a moment,” he said.

Hoseok nodded and returned to the bed. Hyungwon hurriedly gathered the cards into a neat stack, and then placed the stack back inside the wooden box.

The card on top was the seven of Rings. Hyungwon stared at it, despair running in his veins like blood, and shut the lid.


	15. To Find Happiness in Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My beauty is unparalleled," said Consort Seokjin, fanning himself with dramatic flare, "and the most flawless thing you will find in this mortal realm. It is well-known."  
>  "None of the common people even know your face," said Consort Yoongi bluntly.  
>  The Second Consort spluttered in indignation, while in the corner the prime minister smiled wryly.
> 
> _White Carnation: A Dramatic Retelling of Events Occurring After King Hoseok's First Marriage_  
>  Ahrin of Hansan-do

Kim Namjoon, famed philosopher and renowned prime minister of Yishin, once remarked that all things had a weakness. Perfection was against the laws of nature, he said, and one of humanity’s impossible fantasies. Nothing could be made without flaw. No armor could be forged that would withstand all attacks, no house built to survive all disasters. Everything in creation had a point at which, if pressure was applied, it would all crumble. Everything had a weakness.

Kihyun’s walked beside him.

His weakness stood behind him during court meetings, a silent shadow. His weakness collected art, and puzzles, and was interested in machinery and mechanisms. His weakness spoke politely to everyone, whether noble or lowborn, but brightly only with those he was close with. His weakness wandered the royal palace, often beside him and sometimes not, and he always, always wore a pendant of lavender jade.

It scared Kihyun sometimes, how fragile his heart was where it considered Changkyun. He would have given everything to be with him. He was risking everything to be with him.

It was a dangerous game, and Kihyun played it carefully. He took every precaution. He gave a gift of lavender perfume to each consort, instructed Changkyun to use it daily and did the same. He painted his lips the same color Changkyun did. For every hour he spent with Changkyun he spent the same with Minhyuk, or Hyungwon. He did not sneak glances at him, no matter how busy or uninterested the others in the room were.

No one suspected anything. Why would they? Kihyun and Changkyun were consorts. They had sworn themselves in service to the king, and breaking that oath meant death. The last executed consort was from six generations ago. Who would dare break the laws of their title?

“Minhyuk, please,” grumbled Hoseok, trying to roll away from the Second Consort. “I need only a few minutes’ sleep.”

“No, you do not,” said Minhyuk, attaching himself to the king ever more firmly, hooking a leg around him. “I am bored.”

The king and his consorts were in one of his leisure rooms, spending the afternoon in rest. Summer was at the height of her passion, and the heat was staved off only by the servants’ diligent fanning. The king lay in bed, the Second Consort beside. The others sat on cushions around him, busy with their own hobbies.

“I am sleepy,” said Hoseok. “Go pester Kihyun or Hyungwon.”

“You selfish bastard,” said Hyungwon, aiming a kick at Hoseok from where he was seated nearby, reading a book. “I hope Minhyuk never stops bothering you.”

The harsh language still shocked Kihyun, despite the years. Hyungwon seemed to be the only one who truly could forget Hoseok was king of Yishin.

“You have betrayed me, all of you,” said Minhyuk, shaking the king in his dramatic fashion. “I am your lovely consort, and yet you choose sleep and books over me!”

In his corner, Changkyun chuckled and smiled to himself. It was a beautiful smile, soft and filled with adoration. The Fourth Consort was wearing blue, a delicate light shade, robes decorated with tangerine patterns at the sleeves and collar. He had had a fringe cut recently, and it fell over half his forehead, ends brushing against the tip of his left ear. He looked beautiful, as ever.

Kihyun had become adept at taking in every precious detail with a glance. He turned back to Minhyuk and said, “Why do you not go bother Prince Jooheon? He is your favorite victim of late, is he not?”

“He is not my victim, he is my friend,” said Minhyuk, shooting Kihyun a look of faux indignation. “Jooheon is attending to some business from Eigak, so he has an acceptable reason for ignoring me.”

“What business?” asked Kihyun, interest piqued.

“He received a letter yesterday,” said Changkyun. “I believe he is discussing its contents with Sojung.”

“What did it say?” asked Kihyun.

“He did not open it in front of me,” said Changkyun, as though it were obvious, which it was.

“There have been events at the border,” said Kihyun. “It might be related to that.”

Hoseok straightened. “What events?”

“Reshuffling of their border guards,” said Kihyun. “They have not increased numbers, only changed composition. Most of the soldiers stationed there are now loyal to one lord.”

“Who?” asked Hoseok, now fully awake.

“We do not know yet,” said Minhyuk. “I have had people ask around, the men know only the insignia of the noble, not their name or identity.”

“Mercenaries,” said Hyungwon.

Kihyun nodded, and said, “They wear the crest of a pink bird. I have looked through crests of Eigakese nobles, past and present, and none have had such a crest, not even in families now thought dead. Someone is going to lengths to hide their identity.”

“And making sure they have a force at our border,” said Hoseok. “How do you know of this? Why did you not tell me before?”

“The general told me,” said Minhyuk. He did not have to specify which general—the Second Consort was close only with Yeon Hu. “We did not tell you because it is not an issue yet.”

Kihyun nodded silently at that. There was much he and Minhyuk did not share with the king. The best outcome was if they could solve it before it reached him. He was the king, he did not need to worry about any small problem that reared its head. As it was, all they could do now was investigate, which he and Minhyuk were already doing.

“You cannot only tell me things when they become an issue,” said Hoseok, serious, looking from Minhyuk to Kihyun. “This sounds the seed of a problem.”

“What can we do anyway, aside from investigate?” asked Changkyun. “And if we find out who it is?”

“If they are planning something against our interests, we will take action,” said Hoseok gravely.

“You’ll start a war, you mean,” said Hyungwon.

“War is the absolute last option,” said Hoseok, seemingly shocked Hyungwon would suggest it.

“For you,” said Hyungwon. “I get the feeling it’s the preferred option for some.”

A silence fell over the room at his words. Kihyun mulled it over. He was certain the assassin had been sent to seed chaos, that it had been a failed mission from the start. He had thought it was simply to weaken Hoseok’s resolve or mental strength, a much bolder move than the usual petty games Yishin and Eigak usually played. It was well-known that on the Prince Jooheon’s name day the king of Yishin had sent, among the usual gifts, a silver bowl commonly used in temples to trap demons and evil spirits. Instigating war was a completely different matter.

The silence was broken, surprisingly, by Hyunwoo. “If I may speak, Your Majesty,” he said, “I learned during my training that the Eigakese follow the old principles of plunder. If a lord’s army conquers a city, they are entitled to the spoils from it. Having an army ready at the border would be a great advantage in case a war does break out.”

Hoseok leaned forward, brow furrowed. “So that is their game,” he said. “They seek war? But who? Is the royal family involved in this?”

“We cannot say yet,” said Kihyun. “Eigakese lords possess a great deal of autonomy.”

“I am making inquiries, but it is difficult to get information from across the border,” said Minhyuk.

“Keep at it, I am certain you will find something soon,” said Hoseok. “In the meantime I must speak with the investigative committee, and my prime minister. We will decide whether to raise the issue in court. I had thought to solve the situation without involving them, but I feel I have no choice.”

Discussion on the matter ended there. There was nothing more to say. Until they discovered this noble’s identity and their motives, they could take no steps.

The tension in the room slowly eased, but there was still a remnant of it when Kihyun excused himself and rose. He had an appointment.

He made his way to his study, the one he used to formally entertain guests. He sat at the low table, called his servants for refreshment, and waited, a small coil of happiness sitting in his belly. A few moments later there was a knock on the door, and Kihyun called out permission to enter.

Sewoon walked in, dressed in new robes of blue and white, and bowed.

“Please, sit down,” said Kihyun, smiling.

Sewoon did as asked, looking uncomfortable. He eyed the dainties set out in front of him, not with desire but rather uncertainty.

“Do not feel awkward,” said Kihyun. “You are a civil servant now.”

“Yes, but I will always have been your servant,” said Sewoon, a small smile touching his lips. “Thank you, Consort. I would never have achieved this if not for you.”

“You achieved this by your own merit,” said Kihyun with a proud smile. “I hear you ranked quite high. Have you decided which department you would like to join?”

“I want to join the education ministry,” said Sewoon, looking earnest. “The education reform is a good idea, and I want to be a part of it.”

“I am sure you will do well,” said Kihyun, and that was genuine. Sewoon was intelligent, earnest and hardworking. He would do brilliantly.

“Thank you, Consort,” said Sewoon. “Are you well? Seungwoo has been up to the task, I hope.”

“Yes, Seungwoo has been doing just fine,” said Kihyun with a laugh. “You need not worry about me.”

“I apologize, but I think I always will,” said Sewoon with a small smile.

Kihyun was touched. He had always considered Sewoon as capable, but ultimately innocent, and someone he worried over. It was heartwarming to think that, in a way, Sewoon worried over him.

“You honor me,” said Kihyun sincerely.

Sewoon paused, and then said, almost carefully, “I hope you know, Consort, I am and will always be loyal to you.”

“Of course,” said Kihyun, surprised Sewoon would mention it when it was so obvious. “As a civil servant you have sworn your loyalty to the king.”

“No, you misunderstand me,” said Sewoon. He pursed his lips a moment, and then said, “I am loyal to _you_ , Consort.”

“Loyalty to me and loyalty to His Majesty is the same,” said Kihyun, not understanding.

There was a pause as Sewoon appeared to think of how best to phrase his thoughts. “I am, of course, loyal to His Majesty,” he said finally. “I would give my life for the crown, without hesitation. But my first loyalty is to you.”

Kihyun could only stare, unable to speak. Sewoon obviously understood the seriousness of his words.

“Thank you,” he was finally able to say. It sounded so lacking to his own ears after Sewoon’s pledge, but he could manage no more.

Sewoon nodded. He reached for a cake, saying, “I think I will try one of these.”

“You are welcome to all you wish,” said Kihyun, meaning it and more.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

Jo Senmi smiled as his guest entered, nodding his head as the other bowed and took his seat. Refreshments had already been set out, and the servants now retreated back to their places, waiting diligently.

“Thank you for having me,” said Han Jehan, with a gracious smile. “It is always a pleasure to be in your home.”

“It is no trouble at all,” said Jo Senmi, smiling cordially.

“I am very honored, Prime Minister,” said Han Jehan with sincerity. “I know you have just returned from a meeting with His Majesty, so to be welcomed still with such hospitality is a great honor.”

“Of course, you are my guest,” said Jo Senmi. “You know about the meeting?”

“I have heard of it,” said Han Jehan. “His Majesty wished to speak to the investigative committee.”

“Yes, it was about the attempted assassination,” said Jo Senmi. “His Majesty believes whoever sent the assassin might be trying for war.”

Han Jehan thought it over. “It is possible,” he said. “The First Consort believes he and the other consorts were the targets. The consorts are a pillar of Yishin’s royal household.”

“If it is true, it is serious,” said Jo Senmi. The thought of an outsider carrying out an attempt on a royal consort’s life was unfathomable. Consorts had been highly respected since Yishin’s establishment, in the days they were known as companions.

“It is,” said Han Jehan grimly. He paused, and then said, “I wonder, though, why the consorts were targeted?”

“They are an integral part of Yishin, since her inception,” said the prime minister.

“Obviously,” said Han Jehan. “I simply thought, why, if I wished to weaken Yishin or wound her king, I would think the prime minister a more valuable target.”

Jo Senmi stopped. He had never considered that.

“As you live outside the compound, you are less protected as well,” continued Han Jehan. “Aside from the king, you have the most say in national matters.” He paused. “Do you not?”

“I do,” said Jo Senmi, but he found he was no longer sure.

“I only find it unusual,” said Han Jehan. “It is a relief none were hurt. We are all very thankful your life was not threatened, Prime Minister.”

“Of course, of course,” said Jo Senmi quickly. “A relief. Certainly.”

“Perhaps the Eigakese involved were mistaken,” said Han Jehan. “They might have believed the consorts were more important to Yishin and the king than his prime minister. Of course, we know that to be incorrect.”

“Certainly,” said Jo Senmi. It _was_ incorrect. It did not matter that the First Consort spoke freely in court, that he had courtiers and lords loyal to his agenda and who always voted on his command. Did it?

“I must admit though, I find it rather disconcerting,” said Han Jehan, after a thoughtful pause. “It is true the consorts have a great say in national affairs. More than is  customary.”

“His Majesty trusts them a great deal,” said Jo Senmi carefully. He always felt the need to be careful around Han Jehan for some reason, as though his opinion mattered more than others’.

“Undoubtedly,” said Han Jehan with a nod. He paused, and then said, “Perhaps too much.”

Jo Senmi said nothing. He wanted to hear the minister speak.

“I understand the consorts are one of our valued traditions, as they should be,” continued Han Jehan. “I simply believe they should return to their traditional role. Consorts never influenced national policy before. I believe that was for a reason.”

“I agree,” said Jo Senmi, feeling a strange rush of gratitude that the young minister thought the same as he. “Political affairs should be left to the court.”

“Oh, I am so relieved you understand me,” said Han Jehan, with a sigh. “I feared you might think I was speaking ill of the consorts. This is not the case at all. I simply worry. His Majesty may still enjoy their company, but they should not influence national politics.”

“Absolutely,” said Jo Senmi, nodding eagerly. He was so glad to find someone who shared his opinion on the matter, and of all people, Han Jehan.

“Perhaps we might try and convince His Majesty to not place too much importance on his consorts,” suggested the minister. “We still respect them, of course, but in their traditional role.”

Jo Senmi snorted. “Best of luck with that,” he said. “I fear he is overly attached to them, and much too stubborn besides. He places the Third Consort highest of all, and we know what he is.”

“He was lowborn,” said Han Jehan. “Yes, I have heard.”

“If only that was all,” said Jo Senmi with a sigh.

Han Jehan did not reply, only raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, you do not know?” asked Jo Senmi, filled with a surge of satisfaction. The young minister always seemed to know all, it felt a great victory to have information he did not. For the first time, Han Jehan was at a disadvantage.

“I do not,” said the young minister, fingering the edge of his cup, but not lifting it.

“Yes, only a few of the highest-ranking courtiers know,” said Jo Senmi, nearly bursting with glee. “I, that old general… it is a well-kept secret. I believe His Majesty even threatened the servants not to speak of it.”

“It must be quite scandalous,” said Han Jehan. He tapped his finger against the edge of the cup.

“It is,” said Jo Senmi. “Of course, once I tell you, you must not speak of it.”

“Never,” said Han Jehan solemnly.

“This may shock you, but it is true,” said Jo Senmi. “Before he was chosen by the king, the Third Consort was a dancer.”

Han Jehan raised an eyebrow. “A dancer?”

“Yes, indeed,” said Jo Senmi, seeing the minister was familiar with the euphemism. “It is true, His Majesty admitted it himself.”

There was a silence as Han Jehan mulled the information over. “Well,” he said finally, “with that face he could not have been very popular.”

“And thank the gods for that,” said Jo Senmi, barking a short, humorless laugh. “Can you imagine? Not only a whore, but a popular one? Terrible.”

“I must admit, I am shocked,” said Han Jehan. “Imagine, rising from the position of a common whore to one of the highest in the nation.”

“It is an insult to the office,” said Jo Senmi, nodding.

“And to think the Eigakese considered them more vital to Yishin than the respected prime minister,” sighed Han Jehan. “A shame.”

Something rankled in Jo Senmi’s gut. He was prime minister. It was bad enough that the whore was officially ranked higher than he, but to be considered a more important part of Yishin’s livelihood? It was more than a shame. It was a travesty.

“I think, minister, you are right,” he said slowly. When Han Jehan raised an eyebrow at him, Jo Senmi continued, “I believe it is time we put some distance between the king and his consorts. For the sake of the nation.”

Han Jehan smiled, and raised his cup to his lips.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

The king had dinner with his consorts, all four of them. As customary, Kihyun sat by his right and Minhyuk his left. Beside Minhyuk and seated diagonally across from Kihyun was Changkyun, with Hyungwon beside Kihyun.

It was a pleasant meal, all of them eating well and making friendly conversation. Since the discussion about the Eigakese border soldiers a few days ago, Hoseok had sat down with the investigative committee, discussing the situation and possible measures. The committee, which had been hitherto looking at pro-war groups in Eigak, would now focus on Eigakese lords and their hidden finances. Minhyuk’s spies were concentrated around the borderlands, some attempting to cross. With courses of action being set, some of the tension had been relieved, and the conversation around the dinner table was casual.

Kihyun ate, trying to focus on Minhyuk and Hyungwon’s conversation about some novel or play. He had not had time alone with Changkyun for a few days now. It was difficult to constantly seek him out without drawing attention, and so Kihyun had tried to content himself with simply being in his presence. Most afternoons the Fourth Consort was with Minhyuk, entertaining the prince of Eigak, and Kihyun passed the time either looking through records of court meetings or the household’s details, as Hyungwon and Hoseok often spent afternoons together either napping or involved in other activities Kihyun wished to know nothing about. He had never minded it before, but now it made his skin itch, the thought of having to spend his time alone when he could have been spending it with Changkyun.

Still, he said nothing. Saying something would draw suspicion, and Kihyun could not allow that. He would never allow that.

On his part, Changkyun acted as he ever did. He joked and laughed and wandered the compound with Jooheon, all the while engrossed in conversation about music and travel. He holed up in the library with Hyungwon, showing him books he liked and discovering new ones with him. He discussed art with Minhyuk. He talked and made witty remarks with Kihyun. Everything was as it always was, except it was not.

As Kihyun reached out for more fish, he made eye contact with Changkyun, and the younger did not react, simply continued eating. As though the last time he had taken Kihyun to his private sanctum with the excuse of showing him a new book he had not kissed Kihyun breathless, murmuring how perfect he was into his ear. Kihyun was pleased, of course, at Changkyun’s success at maintaining the facade, but he would admit to being a little disappointed as well. It was stupidly selfish, he knew, but he enjoyed the thought of Changkyun’s heart overflowing with love for him, too much to be restrained.

Once the meal was done, they rose, ready to attend to their own matters before bed. Hoseok and Hyungwon left together, the king whispering things in the Third Consort’s ear that made him laugh and bat at his chest, which elicited a tired eye-roll from Kihyun. Minhyuk departed for his own rooms, announcing he had sketches to complete.

Kihyun waited, expecting Changkyun to invite him to his chambers with the excuse of a book or a painting or just conversation. But the Fourth Consort only smiled and bid good night, and Kihyun fought to keep his face neutral while his heart sank in disappointment.

He retired to his study, where he looked over some figures of the royal household’s expenses. The king had asked him to try and cut down expenditure where he could, no doubt convinced by the Third Consort, and Kihyun diligently set himself to the task. Tonight, however, he was distracted, and he only rifled through the papers for an hour or so before setting them aside and heading for bed.

Hyemi undid his hair and combed it, and Ahreum and Jongil wiped off his paint and helped him undress, but when Kihyun finally went to bed he was alone in the room. It was his new bedroom, his and Hyungwon’s move having been completed two days before. This had been Hyungwon’s writing room, but all remnants of it had been wiped clean and it had been perfectly decorated, and so it was nearly identical to Kihyun’s previous bedroom.

Nearly. Kihyun turned his head to look at the patch of floor in the center of the room, nearly indistinguishable from the rest. The wood paneling blended in with the rest, perfectly laid and flat, only a few faint lines outlining the rectangular shape. If Kihyun did not know the truth, he would never have noticed.

But he did know the truth. He knew there was a trapdoor there, as he and Changkyun had discovered so many moons ago. Just as he knew that trapdoor led directly to another in Changkyun’s private rooms.

Kihyun had asked Hyungwon to exchange only for this. This, a secret tunnel to Changkyun’s rooms. When the thought had first come to him he had recoiled, horrified at what he had become, a treasonous consort seeking secret ways to go to his lover at night. But the more he considered it the more it attracted him, the thought of always having a way to see Changkyun, any night he desired. And so in the end, as he always did when it concerned Changkyun, Kihyun had broken, and he had given in.

He looked again at the barely visible trapdoor. He had not gone down it, not out of some great measure of self-control, but out of fear. The tunnels had been dark and forbidding even in the daytime. He did not dare try them at night.

He could feel his fear dying, however, slowly paling in the light of his desire. Kihyun had not had the opportunity to truly spend time with Changkyun in days. If this continued, he was certain in a few more nights he would brave the tunnels.

He closed his eyes, trying for sleep. Perhaps tomorrow he could ask Changkyun about any additions to his library—

A sharp knock resounded in Kihyun’s ears. He sat up and looked at the door, but it did not come from there. There was another sharp knock, and then another, and now Kihyun could determine the source.

He rushed out of bed and to the trapdoor, throwing it open. Changkyun looked up at him behind it, smiling.

“What are you doing?” whispered Kihyun urgently, helping him up. “I have attendants waiting right outside the door.”

“I came to get you,” said Changkyun, smile clear even in the weak moonlight. “Let us go back to my rooms.”

Kihyun wanted to refuse. A part of him cried out for it. It was too much, he had gone too far, he could not sneak out in the middle of the night like this. But Changkyun was smiling at him, so beautiful in the moonlight, and compared to him nothing else mattered.

“I will follow you,” said Kihyun. He pulled his hair up and twisted it into a makeshift knot. “You can find the way? Even in the dark?”

“Yes,” said Changkyun confidently. “Trust me.”

Kihyun did. The Fourth Consort reentered the tunnels, and Kihyun followed him in.

It was dark, oppressively dark. The darkness felt almost like a physical force in the confined space, and Kihyun pressed against the walls, the floors, fruitlessly hoping he could somehow push them further away. It was suffocating.

“Kihyun,” a soft whisper cut through the darkness. “Are you alright?”

Changkyun. Changkyun was there with him, guiding him. Changkyun knew the way.

“I am alright,” said Kihyun. The air in his mouth tasted of dust. “Lead.”

They moved slowly through the tunnels. Kihyun felt as though Changkyun was moving slower for his sake, and he was grateful. He had only been down through the secret passages once before, but Changkyun moved with practiced ease. He knew these passages well.

After minutes spent shuffling forward, Changkyun stopped, and pushed open the space above him. Golden light flooded into the tunnel. Changkyun climbed out, and helped Kihyun out as soon as he could.

He emerged in one of Changkyun’s private rooms, his favorite, the one with the bedroll and the scattered clockwork pieces in the corner. There was a lantern lit, spreading its golden glow over the room. Beyond the large, open window, the herb garden was dark in the moonlight.

“Are you alright?” asked Changkyun, approaching Kihyun to brush dirt off his clothes.

“I told you, I am fine,” said Kihyun, smiling at Changkyun’s concern.

He cupped Changkyun’s face with a hand, and his heart sang when he felt the younger lean into his touch. Slowly, almost carefully, Kihyun leaned forward to kiss him, and Changkyun did the same, smiling against his lips, hands going around to hold him at his waist.

“I missed you,” murmured Kihyun softly, pressing his forehead to Changkyun’s.

Changkyun hummed in reply, darting forward to catch Kihyun’s lips in a quick kiss, once, twice. “Come,” he said. “I want to make the most of our time.”

He stepped backwards, and Kihyun was forced to let him go. “What are we doing?” he asked.

A smile spread across the Fourth Consort’s face. “We are going out,” he said.

“Out?” Kihyun was confused. “Out where?”

“Out of the compound,” said Changkyun excitedly. “I found a tunnel leading to a door that opens outside the compound. The door has been forgotten, so it is unguarded. We can go out.”

Kihyun stared at him, dumbfounded. “Have you gone insane?” he finally managed to say. “We cannot go out! We are forbidden from leaving the compound without the king’s permission and an escort!”

Changkyun smiled wryly. “We are forbidden from a great many things, Consort.”

Kihyun felt himself flush pink. It was true. The life of a consort came with many laws, and they had already broken the most sacred.

“We will be back before sunrise, nobody will know,” promised Changkyun, eyes glowing in the lantern light. “What is there to lose?”

An argument sprang to Kihyun’s lips, and then died. What _was_ there to lose? Kihyun had loved another man, kissed another man, and he feared leaving the compound? He shied away from taking another step downwards, but he had already jumped off the cliff, and he was free falling.

“You will not get lost in the tunnels?” asked Kihyun.

“I promise you, I will not,” said Changkyun. He was nearly bouncing from excitement, waves of it rolling off his body. “Quickly, we must change.” He went to the wall by the bedroll, where a bundle was placed.

“Change?” Things were happening so quick Kihyun was floundering.

Changkyun turned to toss something, and Kihyun caught it instinctively. It was a set of clothes. “We cannot go out in our sleeping clothes,” said Changkyun, already undoing the top of his shirt. “I had a servant get these, saying I wished to try them out. It is fortunate we are the same size.”

Kihyun whirled around. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

“Changing,” said Changkyun. He sounded confused.

“In front of me?” spluttered Kihyun. He could hear rustling behind his back, and he resolutely looked down at the clothes he was clutching to his chest.

“Behind you, since you’ve turned around,” said Changkyun, amusement obvious in his voice. “You may look now, Consort. I am done.”

Hesitantly, Kihyun turned around. Changkyun was dressed now as a young nobleman, in a long overcoat of dark purple. He pushed his hair back and started tying it, saying, “You will have to change as well. Should I leave?”

“Yes, please,” said Kihyun, relieved at the offer.

Changkyun did as asked, but he left smirking, saying, “You are comfortable enough changing in front of all your servants.”

“They are not you,” said Kihyun, and he was rewarded with Changkyun freezing for a moment before he disappeared out the door.

The First Consort changed quickly into his provided suit of ashen blue. The garb was a nobleman’s, but the fabric was inexpensive and plain, clearly belonging to a man of lower wealth and ranking. There were many such young men in the capital, nobles or merchants, and the two of them would blend in easily. He called for Changkyun to return while he tied his hair and the younger walked in, hair already neatly bound, two wide-brimmed hats tucked under his arm.

“Let us go,” he said, eyes shining. In front of that face, Kihyun could only nod.

Changkyun entered the tunnels first, Kihyun following. The Fourth Consort moved easily and surely, but never quick enough to leave Kihyun behind. It was a twisting path, with many turns in the darkness, and just as Kihyun was about to ask if they had lost the way, Changkyun said, “Here.”

There was a soft thud, and then a loud, painful creak, and faint light streamed into the passage. Changkyun climbed out, and reached a hand down for Kihyun. Kihyun held him firmly, and pulled himself up.

He pulled himself onto dirt. Kihyun got up, brushing dirt from his hands and his knees while Changkyun closed the trapdoor, and looked around.

They were outside.

To one side was the royal compound wall, made of brick and seven feet tall, a sturdy barrier Kihyun was used to seeing from the other side. To the other was a street running parallel to the wall, beyond it an empty field and some trees, down it a few shops, most closed at the late hour.

Kihyun tried to get his bearings. They were nowhere near the main gate, that was for sure. He guessed they were somewhere near the south end of the compound, where there was no gate and the streets were less busy.

“Come, let us explore,” said Changkyun excitedly. He pressed one of the hats onto Kihyun’s head, tied the other onto his own, and then took Kihyun by the hand and pulled him along.

Kihyun’s heart pounded in his chest as he let himself be lead. They were so exposed. He did not fear attack, he feared being caught. If anyone saw them, what could they say? What explanation could they give?

Most of the shops were closed, owners already having packed their wares for the night. Changkyun looked around, disappointed, and continued walking.

“I think everything is closed,” said Kihyun. “Perhaps we should go back…”

“The stores on the main road will be open,” said Changkyun.

The force of his enthusiasm could not be denied. Kihyun allowed himself to be pulled along, dread rising in his chest. They were right beside the royal compound. The streets were mostly abandoned, but that only called more attention upon them. They would be seen. The longer they stayed outside, the greater the chances of it.

They continued walking, until Kihyun could hear the sound of voices in a crowd. There was a turn ahead, following the boundary of the compound, and Changkyun forged ahead, either not registering Kihyun’s rising apprehension or not caring.

Around the corner, the market was open.

It was busy. Most stalls were open, keepers enthusiastically showing their wares. People milled around from one store to the other, some buying, others only looking, much to the chagrin of the sellers. There were so many on the street, men, women, children, ranging from peasants in rough linen to young nobles in silk.

The sight of the crowd only served to spike Kihyun’s apprehension. There were so many people. It was only a matter of time before they were noticed.

On the other hand, Changkyun looked so excited he might burst. He turned to Kihyun with eyes that glimmered in the light of the lamps. “Do you want to buy something?” he asked. “I brought money.”

“I think we should go,” said Kihyun uneasily. “Someone will recognize us.”

Changkyun stopped, his enthusiasm paused. “No one will recognize us,” he said. “You worry for nothing.”

“I worry for our lives,” whispered Kihyun, leaning in close to avoid being heard. “Do you know what will happen if we are caught? How are we to explain—?”

His words were cut off by Changkyun’s lips pressing against his.

Kihyun jerked backwards. “What are you doing?” he hissed, panic rising up his throat. “In public—where anyone might see us—they will know—”

“Kihyun,” said Changkyun, voice deep and calm like the bottom of the ocean. He took both of Kihyun’s hands in his. “Look around. Nobody knows who we are.”

Kihyun looked around apprehensively, heart still thudding in his chest. People walked past them, busy with their own affairs. Customers haggled over prices with storekeepers, women bought toffee for their children from vendors. A woman passing by made eye-contact, and Kihyun’s heart stopped in his chest, but then she looked away once more, returning to conversation with her friend.

He looked back at Changkyun, who was watching him with calm, patient eyes. “She did not recognize me,” he whispered.

“No one here will,” said Changkyun. “They have never seen us.”

“They live right outside the compound,” said Kihyun, unable to believe it. “We—we ride in the processions during festivals, right behind the king…”

“They have never seen _us_ , Kihyun,” said Changkyun, rubbing his thumbs over the back of Kihyun’s hands. “They only see the fine clothes, the expensive jewelry, the jade pendant. They do not know who we are. No one will recognize you.”

Kihyun found it impossible to believe, absolutely impossible, but it was true. People glanced at him as they passed, but only with cursory interest, as any would do when they saw others standing by the street. A crowd full of people, in a market beside the royal compound, and none of them knew the face of the First Consort of Yishin.

He turned wide eyes on Changkyun, who was smiling at him now. The Fourth Consort was right. No one here knew who they were.

A smile broke out on Kihyun’s lips, and he giggled, unable to stop himself. It was absurd. He was one of the most highly ranked people in the country, and here he was, out in the open, and nobody knew who he was.

“So, I will ask you again,” said Changkyun, bright, beautiful smile on his face. “Are you alright?”

Kihyun smiled back. “I am.”

He leaned forward and kissed Changkyun, locking their fingers together as he did. And then they set out to explore the market together, no longer consorts, at least for a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of the year!  
> Thank you so much to everyone who's followed this journey so far. It has been quite a ride, and there is still some left, so please look forward to it and hold on.  
> Here's to 2019 being a good year. Thank you for all your love and kindness, and thank you for staying with Lavender Jade.


	16. Stars, Above and Below

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoongi had thought he knew what love meant. And then he had met Jimin.
> 
>  _White Carnation: A Dramatic Retelling of Events Occurring After King Hoseok's First Marriage_  
>  Ahrin of Hansan-do

Tea was served, poured into delicate porcelain cups the color of milky green jade. The heady fragrance of herb and lavender permeated the air. Attendants set down plates of cakes and sweets, and more came in to wait by the tables, ready to serve every whim. They were all young men, fresh-faced and handsome. Unsurprising. Lady Choi did love pretty men.

At the moment she was reclined on a number of plump sky blue cushions, color contrasting sharply against her vibrant pink robes. She prattled on about some marriage proposal she had received and rejected, and had been prattling for the better part of an hour. Opposite her sat Han Jehan, nodding along to her monologue. A more common man might have lost attention already, only feigning to listen, but Han Jehan was no common man. Kim Sungil knew he was absorbing every word. He always listened, and remembered, and then put that information to use when he needed it.

Kim Sungil respected his lord, but more than that, he feared him.

“How unfortunate,” commented Han Jehan at the appropriate moment.

“Quite,” said Lady Choi with a giggle. “But I have been going on and on. I must have bored you to tears.”

“Never, my lady, I enjoy every moment of your company,” said Han Jehan. He had quite the talent for sounding earnest.

Lady Choi smiled, and Kim Sungil wondered if she knew. She appeared vapid, but there was a sharp mind underneath the elaborate hairstyles and expensive headpieces.

“Tell me of your doings,” she said with a smile. “You are always busy some way or the other.”

“Nothing interesting, I am afraid,” said Han Jehan. “I am expanding my businesses.”

“Ah.” The lady leaned back into her cushions, and it was obvious she was disappointed. “I had thought you would be busy with certain other matters.”

“Other matters?” Han Jehan affected a puzzled expression.

“Regarding the thorn in your side,” said the lady. “The First Consort.”

Han Jehan smiled. “He is hardly a matter,” he said. “The thorn will be plucked soon.”

A thirsty glint entered Lady Choi's eye. “Is that so?”

Han Jehan only took a sip of his tea.

“He is very dear to the king,” said Lady Choi. She craved details, Kim Sungil could see it in her eyes clear as glass.

“They all are, in different ways,” said Han Jehan. “I will not seek to drive a wedge in that relationship, not yet.”

“Then?” asked the lady.

“I will see first how the First Consort handles a feint,” said Han Jehan. “And then I will decide what course of action to take.”

“A feint?” Lady Choi leaned forward.

“Patience, my lady,” said Han Jehan. “You will know soon enough.”

Lady Choi harrumphed. “You are too much, Jehan.”

Han Jehan laughed. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said. “As a token of apology, I can offer some advice on how to win some riches.”

“I am already rich,” said Lady Choi, and, as if to prove her point, she fingered the ruby and diamond coronet in her hair.

“You have no need of more money?” asked Han Jehan with a wry smile.

Lady Choi smiled. “There is always need of more money.”

“Then I would advise you to acquire smithies,” said Han Jehan. “Smithies, forges, armories. Yishin will soon have great need of them.”

That wiped the smile off Lady Choi's face. “You are planning for war?” she asked, shocked. “You expect war?”

Han Jehan said nothing, only raised his cup to his lips.

Lady Choi fell back on her cushions to process. Kim Sungil stood in the corner, a silent observer. He was not surprised. Han Jehan had not said it aloud, not in front of him, but he had been able to piece it together. The young minister had already purchased numerous forges and armories, as well as fertile land in eastern districts. There was always need for food during wartime, and the west would be ravaged by fighting.

Kim Sungil did not mind the turn of events. He had his own reasons for joining Han Jehan, and he was expecting the minister to come through with his promise.

Finally, when the cups had ceased to steam, Lady Choi straightened once more. “Where will you fight?” she asked, her voice much more subdued than before.

“Fight?” Han Jehan laughed lightly. “Why should I fight, when I have Sungil by my side?” He turned to him with a smile, and Kim Sungil kept his expression stone.

“You know what I mean,” said Lady Choi. “Will you—you will support Eigak?”

“Would you have me arrested for treason if I say yes?” asked Han Jehan with an amused smile.

“Never,” said Lady Choi at once, her serious tone contrasting oddly with Han Jehan's lighthearted air. “Never. I only wish to know.”

 _So you know which nation to support._ Kim Sungil could guess Han Jehan thought the same, but the lord only continued smiling.

“There are advantages to either,” said the minister. “The king will have no children, and will need to choose a successor. Why not a young, loyal minister who aided him through a difficult and bloody war? And if he were to die of illness in a few years, ah…”

The lady inhaled sharply. Oh, she liked that.

“But Eigakese politics is so volatile,” continued Han Jehan airily. “The councilor of an occupied territory can easily become chief of court, and from there, even king. Coups are nothing new to Eigak's history.”

“And so?” asked Lady Choi, breathless.

“We shall see,” said Han Jehan. “It is good to keep options open, my lady.”

“Yes, yes,” said Lady Choi eagerly. She had come for a light snack, and had been served a feast. This would sustain her hungry nature for a while.

“Either way will be interesting, and I will decide soon enough,” said Han Jehan. “But I promised Sungil a fight, and I shall see he gets it.”

In his corner, Kim Sungil allowed himself a smile.

 

✧☆❀☆✧

 

“Changkyun, that is enough. Stop.”

Changkyun grinned. “Make me.”

Kihyun leaned back, trying to escape, but the younger consort had essentially climbed into his lap, and continued to pepper kisses onto his neck. “It tickles,” said Kihyun, curling into himself to protect his sensitive skin, but to no avail. The Fourth Consort was relentless.

“That is the point,” said Changkyun, and Kihyun could hear his smile even if he could not see it.

“If you do not stop, I will be permanently covered in gooseprickles,” said Kihyun, but he could not find it in himself to sound stern. “My fingers will never uncurl.”

Changkyun hummed against his skin. “Probably.”

“You are impossible,” said Kihyun, laughing despite himself.

They were in one of Changkyun’s private rooms, sitting together on his unmade bed. The bright sunlight of the summer afternoon came in through the large open window, and the herb garden outside was a rich green. It was hot, too hot for such close contact, but Kihyun found he did not mind, not when he was with Changkyun.

He had ceased to count the days since their affair had started. Every day it seemed to bloom anew. Kihyun would spend time with Changkyun, sometimes alone, but oftentimes in the presence of the other consorts, or the king or crown prince and their guards. He would smile at him, and occasionally be rewarded with a fond smile in return. He would eat with him, and discuss poetry and literature with him, and look at paintings and sculpture with him.

And he would kiss him. Kihyun would kiss Changkyun whenever he could, when they were alone in safety of his private chambers. He would kiss his lips, his cheeks, the tip of his sharp nose, the backs of his hands and his fingertips. And Changkyun would smile and laugh and kiss him in turn.

Afterwards Kihyun would stand before him and look him over carefully, from head to toe. He would wipe off any tint that had transferred from his lips, fix the front of his clothes, smoothen out the paint and powder on his face. Changkyun would do the same to him, catching any signs and hiding them. Then they would ready themselves, and go out to meet the others.

It was a dangerous game, a deadly game. Kihyun tried to play it careful, play it slow, but he could feel himself losing control, spiraling faster and faster. He could not keep away from Changkyun. The younger man was like a drug, and every waking moment Kihyun was away from him he thought only of seeing him again.

He had braved the suffocating tunnels, again and again, going to him in the dead dark of the night. The sight of Changkyun sitting by the trapdoor, waiting for him, filled him with a rush he could not describe. As much as Kihyun wanted Changkyun, Changkyun wanted him.

A few nights they left the palace compound through the tunnels, but most nights they stayed in. They lay down beside each other and talked. Changkyun had a wide range of interests, from history to mythology to astronomy. He scoured the libraries for books regularly, and he would show Kihyun new discoveries, pointing out certain texts or excerpts he loved. Kihyun absorbed it all. There was much he did not understand, but Changkyun’s excitement and wonderment was worth it and more.

When there was no new book to show, they would put out the lanterns and simply be together in the dark. Those were some of Kihyun’s favorite moments. Changkyun’s voice sounded deeper in the pitch blackness, carried more easily in the air. He would talk of things he read, things he found interesting or puzzling. Kihyun would talk sometimes of what worried him, about the court or household affairs, and he feared he bored Changkyun with his dull thoughts and matters. But Changkyun always listened. He would hum and comment and sometimes give advice, and he would reach out and hold Kihyun’s hand.

And Kihyun would kiss him in the cover of darkness, tightly grasping his hands to keep his own from straying. He could not touch Changkyun, it was too risky. If, gods forbid, they left marks on each other, it would be a death sentence. The whole compound and beyond knew Hoseok slept with neither Changkyun nor Kihyun.

Kihyun could get furious about that, if he allowed himself to. By taking Changkyun as consort and refusing to bed him, Hoseok had essentially forced him into a vow of celibacy.

Changkyun stayed perched on Kihyun’s lap, no longer kissing at his neck but simply resting his head against his. It was too warm but comfortable. Kihyun closed his eyes, enjoying the intimacy. They were precious moments.

“We must return to the others soon,” murmured Changkyun. Of late, he had been the one to notice more often than not. Kihyun feared he was becoming too cavalier, drunk off Changkyun’s affection.

“We must,” echoed Kihyun, not moving.

Changkyun chuckled, a soft, warm sound, and then pulled himself away. Kihyun let him go, clamping down on a needy whine, but it must have shown on his face for Changkyun laughed. He held out a hand, and Kihyun gave in and pulled himself up.

They stood opposite each other, scanning for any telltale signs. Changkyun took out his handkerchief and wiped away remnants of his lip paint from Kihyun’s neck. Kihyun wiped at the corners of Changkyun’s lips, where the red had smeared. He smoothened the front of his robes, tucked in the edge of his belt, and then reached up to fix his fringe.

“I want to kiss you again,” said Changkyun softly.

Kihyun smiled. “You cannot, not unless you would have us go through this again.”

“I do not mind,” said Changkyun.

That made Kihyun laugh, and he leaned forward, not to kiss Changkyun but press their foreheads together. “Should I come see you tonight?” he whispered.

“Yes,” answered Changkyun without hesitation.

“Do you ever say no?” asked Kihyun with a smile.

“No,” said Changkyun cheekily.

“Brat,” said Kihyun, but he laughed as he said so. Changkyun smiled at that, and then moved forward to rub the tip of his nose against Kihyun’s.

Kihyun wanted to kiss him, badly. But he forced himself to be satisfied only with his proximity, and eventually straightened. Changkyun did the same, standing straight with a loose shake of his arms, and then nodded.

When the two left the private chambers, they were once again First and Fourth Consort.

Minhyuk was sitting in the largest leisure room when they entered, surrounded only by his attendants. He perked up at the sight of them, saying, “Thank the gods you are back, I have been bored near to death. What were you doing for so long?”

“Changkyun found another history book, and was telling me about it,” said Kihyun.

“It was on events from before the founding of Yishin,” said Changkyun. “Those are very rare, you know.”

They had prepared for this. They always had stories ready, discussed beforehand, detailed explanations if needed.

“How interesting,” said Minhyuk, obvious he found it anything but. “I am doubly glad you are here, Kihyun, because I wished to talk to you.”

“Oh? What about?” Kihyun took a seat opposite Minhyuk, while Changkyun took one beside, a safe distance away.

“Our favorite young minister of the first circle,” said Minhyuk, smiling devilishly. “My friends have brought new information.”

Kihyun tensed. Han Jehan. “What did they say?”

“He is buying land,” said Minhyuk. “Fertile farmlands, out east.”

That was disappointing. New ministers often acquired assets when they were stable enough, and there was nothing illicit about buying land. “He is buying directly, under his own name?” asked Kihyun.

Minhyuk nodded, to which Changkyun commented, “I doubt there is anything unscrupulous about it then, if he is attaching his name to it.”

He was right, of course. Han Jehan seemed too careful a man to do anything illegal openly. But Kihyun was convinced there was something about him, something they should be wary of. “Nothing else?” he asked. “Nothing through any false names or dummy businesses?”

At that, Minhyuk looked embarrassed. “I have not been able to find any dummy businesses,” he said.

“That is impossible,” said Kihyun. “He must have some business under another name. I have looked into his finances, he cannot be this wealthy.”

“I thought so as well,” said Minhyuk. “But I have been unable to find even a whiff of them.”

“They might be under friends’ names,” said Kihyun. “Who are his friends?”

“He has many,” said Minhyuk. “Everybody likes him.”

Kihyun scoffed at that, miffed, but he could see the Second Consort was being wholly serious. In truth, he understood. What was there not to like? Han Jehan was polite, friendly, personable. Courtiers and ministers milled around him after court sessions concluded, some trying to win favor, others only with friendly conversation. He had gathered a fair amount of influence in the court in a very short amount of time. Kihyun wondered how long Han Jehan had been planning his entrance into the court. But of course, he only gained his position because his father stepped down, and how could he have influenced that?

_How indeed?_

“Honestly, I do not see why you are so set on him,” continued Minhyuk, bringing Kihyun back to the present. “He has not done anything suspicious.”

“He sent a skilled swordsman as escort for a gift,” said Kihyun. That was a play, Kihyun knew, though he did not know what the goal was.

“And the first time you went to his home you went in the company of Hyunwoo, the best swordsman in Yishin,” said Minhyuk.

“I do not know what you are trying to say,” said Kihyun, stiffening.

“You do,” said Minhyuk with a sidelong glance. “Perhaps he was only returning the favor, or he thought it a jest. He sent me an ornament of a fat baby as a jest, you know.”

“You are still receiving gifts from him?” Kihyun was in disbelief.

“Why would I refuse freely given gifts?” asked Minhyuk, seemingly in even more disbelief. “He is a court minister who has not done us or threatened us with any harm, or done anything to warrant suspicion.”

“He sent Kim Sungil to me, that was a threat,” said Kihyun, anger rising.

“It was a statement,” said Minhyuk. “Just as your going with Hyunwoo.”

“But I am First Consort of Yishin,” said Kihyun. “I can make any statement I wish, it is not for a minister to respond. He should know his place.”

“So he insulted you?” Minhyuk raised an eyebrow. “I thought he threatened you. Which is it?”

Kihyun inhaled sharply, incensed. “How dare—”

“Consort,” said Changkyun.

Kihyun stopped, and turned to him, waiting for him to continue. Changkyun said nothing, only giving him a calm look.

It was enough to bring Kihyun’s rage in check. He took a deep breath and looked at Minhyuk, face set.

“I am sorry,” said the Second Consort calmly. “But my resources are already stretched thin with the goings-on at the border and I had expected to find something of note by now. I need to know I am not wasting my efforts, Kihyun.”

Kihyun’s anger rushed out of him like hot steam. He understood. The truth was he himself was fixated on Han Jehan based solely on instinct. He moved his attention to what was undoubtedly the more pressing issue. “Have you heard anything from over the border?” he asked.

“No, it is hard getting information there,” said Minhyuk. “Many do not want to go. Espionage is different in Eigak. More dangerous.”

“When they catch a spy, they kill them,” said Changkyun tonelessly. “It is legal there.”

“Precisely,” said Minhyuk, voice tight. “None of my amiable friends wish to go, and I do not think my… stealthy ones would be of much use.”

No, Kihyun too did not think it was a good idea sending assassins to gather information. “I see,” he said. “Please stay on it, Consort. Perhaps focus efforts on the border barracks, there might be a commander who knows something.”

Minhyuk nodded. He paused a moment, and then said, “I will keep a few men on our minister as well.”

“Thank you,” said Kihyun, sincere.

Minhyuk broke into a smile. “No need for gratitude,” he said. “I have been impatient, but I do trust your instincts.”

“And for that I am grateful,” said Kihyun, returning the smile.

In the comfortable silence that followed, Changkyun commented, “You are very close.”

“We have known each other three years,” said Minhyuk, grinning. “I should hope we are close.”

“His Majesty took Minhyuk as consort only a few months after me,” said Kihyun.

Changkyun thought this over a moment, and then asked, “Were you not hurt?”

Kihyun laughed. “Why would I be hurt?”

For a beat it looked as Changkyun might say something, but then he stopped and only shrugged. Before Kihyun could ask him what was on his mind, the door slid open, and the king and Third Consort entered.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” said Kihyun. He rose and bowed, though he knew the king would not have minded if he had not. Changkyun and Minhyuk did the same, the Second Consort only just bending forward.

“Afternoon,” said Hoseok relaxedly. He sat down in his reserved seat,  Hyunwoo a silent shadow beside. Hyungwon went around and sat beside Changkyun. “What are my lovely consorts talking about?”

“Nothing interesting,” said Minhyuk lightly. “There is nothing interesting in the world but you.”

Kihyun snorted, while Hoseok gave him a sour look. “I have just returned from spending time with Jooheon,” he said. “There is no consort tradition in Eigak, did you know? Perhaps there are things the Eigakese do right.”

“If we were Eigakese, they would start the tradition solely for us,” said Minhyuk confidently.

That made Hoseok laugh, and he opened his arms in invitation. Minhyuk obediently climbed out of his seat and slipped into the king's lap, bending over to kiss him long and passionately.

“Must you?” asked Hyungwon flatly. “Have you not made Hyunwoo suffer enough?”

“Apologies, commandant,” said Hoseok, while the Second Consort peppered kisses on his forehead and cheeks.

“You do not need to apologize to me,” said Hyunwoo, slightly flustered.

“See? He says it is fine,” said Minhyuk, and moved to capture Hoseok’s lips once again.

Hyungwon scoffed disapprovingly. He disliked obvious displays of affection, Kihyun knew.

“Third Consort,” said Changkyun, “may I ask you a favor?”

“Always,” said Hyungwon easily. It warmed Kihyun’s heart to know how fond the others were of Changkyun.

“I was hoping you might conduct a reading for me,” said Changkyun. “I know I ruined the last one, but I have been reading up on it and I think I am ready for another.”

Kihyun tensed. The last reading had been a disaster. Changkyun’s interruption, what it had led to… Kihyun did not want a repeat of that tension.

There was another aspect to consider as well. The card Kihyun had gotten, the one Changkyun had interrupted the reading to keep secret, had been a card with a romantic meaning. What if Changkyun picked a similar one, one that would arouse suspicion?

Kihyun turned to the Third Consort. He prayed he refused.

Hyungwon seemed frozen in time following Changkyun request, face blank. Then, slowly, he said, “I am sorry, Changkyun, but I am not conducting readings at the moment. I hope you understand.”

“Of course, Consort,” said Changkyun, while Kihyun breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Did anything happen, Hyungwon?” asked the king.

“Nothing,” said Hyungwon, putting up a smile. “The Sight is closed to me for awhile, that's all.”

“That has never happened before,” said Hoseok, concerned. “Are you sure you're alright?” Minhyuk remained on his lap, forgotten.

“I am,” said Hyungwon. “It has happened before, only I did not mention it. Don't worry about me.”

The look on the king's face said he did worry, but he let it go.

“When did you suddenly become interested in divination?” Minhyuk asked Changkyun.

“I found a book on it,” answered the Fourth Consort simply.

That was answer enough. Minhyuk nodded and started playing with Hoseok’s ears, making him squirm and laugh. Kihyun looked to Hyungwon, to ascertain if he truly was alright or only seeking to calm the king, and the Third Consort caught his eye and smiled. Kihyun smiled briefly in return, and then felt Changkyun’s gaze on him. He forced himself to look only for a moment at him, keeping his smile small and friendly. Now was not the time.

Changkyun understood as well, for he only maintained eye-contact for a beat before turning his attention to Hyungwon, asking him questions about the vei. Kihyun allowed himself a moment to enjoy the warm rise of fondness in his heart, and then returned to reality.

 

The darkness was oppressive, pushing down on Kihyun from every side. He kept on moving, using the feel of the dusty, gritty wood under his hands to keep himself grounded. Just a little more, and the hellish journey would be worth it. It would be worth it and more.

The glimmer of light in front of Kihyun got closer and closer. He crawled towards it, wishing he could be faster, wishing he could be there.

Finally, after what felt like an age, the First Consort reached the portal of golden light, and raised his head.

At once warm hands reached for him, helped him up. Kihyun stretched and began brushing the dust off his clothes, smiling as the other tried to help.

“You are late,” said Changkyun, busily getting dirt off Kihyun’s sleeves. “I feared you were lost.”

“I am no master, but I know at least this route,” said Kihyun with a smile. He broke free of Changkyun’s ministrations to cup his face. “How was your day?” he asked softly.

“You should know, you spent nearly all of it with me,” said Changkyun, grinning.

“Still thought I might ask,” said Kihyun. He rubbed a thumb against Changkyun’s cheek, feeling the roughness of broken skin from years ago. They only added to Changkyun's beauty, as though the stars he held inside him showed through on his face.

Changkyun did not answer, only leaned forward to press his lips against Kihyun’s. He smiled into the kiss, and Kihyun found himself smiling as well.

“Come, I know exactly what we will do tonight,” said Changkyun as he broke the kiss. He remained close enough for Kihyun to feel his breath on his lips.

Kihyun hummed and nodded. Whatever Changkyun wished.

Changkyun moved away, but took Kihyun’s hand in his. Kihyun locked their fingers together and allowed himself to be led, up to the large window facing the enclosed herb garden.

“Through here,” said Changkyun, letting go of Kihyun’s hand to climb through.

“Is there any reason you did not have a door built leading to the garden?” asked Kihyun as he followed.

“I forgot,” said Changkyun simply.

“You forgot the door,” said Kihyun, laughing. “Of course.”

“You can go through the window, so what is the problem?” asked Changkyun. Kihyun could only laugh in reply.

None of the plants were flowering, aside from the starry white wildflowers. Creepers climbed small bushes whose branches had been left to grow freely, tangling together. In the moonless night it was dark, almost haunting, but not scary. The ground was covered in a thick carpet of grass, and it was on this Changkyun sat without hesitation. Kihyun did the same, but much more uncertain. When Changkyun lay down flat on his back, Kihyun felt obligated to say something.

“Why are you lying down on the ground?” he asked awkwardly.

“I want to stargaze with you,” said Changkyun, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Kihyun blinked, surprised. Of course, the garden had no roof, and the new moon made the stars shine especially bright, but he had never thought…

“Do you want me to get something for you to lie on?” asked Changkyun, interpreting his silence for something else. He was already getting up.

“No, there is no need,” said Kihyun quickly. And to ensure Changkyun knew he meant it, he lay down.

The smile Changkyun gave Kihyun was worth what felt like a thousand ants suddenly crawling on him. He tried to convince himself it was nothing more than his imagination. Kihyun had never lay down on bare grass, not as a young nobleman, and certainly not as consort.

Changkyun lay flat on his back beside, shifting closer until their shoulders were touching. “I have been trying to learn the constellations,” he said, eyes fixed on the sky. “Do you know a few, Kihyun?”

“A few,” said Kihyun. Truth be told, his knowledge of the night sky was painfully limited. He had never taken an interest. He went through what knowledge he did have, and then pointed at the brightest star. “That is the North Star,” he said.

He half-expected Changkyun to laugh at him and his total lack of knowledge, but the Fourth Consort said, “Yes, it is. Look, you can see the claws of the crab framing it. Do you see the claws? The two curves on either side?”

Kihyun peered up at the sky, and thought he could see two curved lines of stars on either side of the North Star, pointing to it. “Yes, I see them,” he said, excited.

“The constellation is called the One Eyed Crab,” said Changkyun. “The North Star is the crab's one eye. Do you see the scatter of smaller stars below? Those are the crab's legs.”

There were a few faded stars there, and Kihyun could convince himself he saw crab legs there. The more he looked, the clearer the picture became. “Incredible,” he breathed out.

“It is,” said Changkyun, voice bursting with excitement.

Kihyun turned to him, and was taken aback by the shine in his eyes, the spellbinding fascination in his gaze. He wondered if that was why Changkyun was so captivated by the night sky. He had his own stars in his eyes.

The Fourth Consort pointed out different constellations, naming them and telling the stories behind each. Some were clear pictures, others vague lines Kihyun could barely make out. Changkyun was excited about them all regardless.

“Do you see those stars over there?” he asked, pointing to the east, just where the roof of the palace cut off the starry panorama. “There are seven of them, in the shape of a pyramid. Can you make it out?”

“Yes,” said Kihyun, a half-truth. He could see the stars Changkyun spoke of, but they hardly made the image of a pyramid.

“There are two stories about it,” said Changkyun. “It is more commonly known as the Crown. It is said one of the kings of heaven was in love with a mortal, but the heavenly emperor refused to let them marry. The king cast his crown and celestial power aside and fell to earth, so that he could be with his love. But their happiness was brief, for the fall ravaged the king's now-mortal body, and he soon died. His crown was never passed on to another, and it remains in the night sky.”

Kihyun hummed, but did not comment. He moved closer to Changkyun, until their arms were pressed together, warmth from Changkyun’s body tingling against his skin.

“It is also known as the Seven Brothers,” continued Changkyun. “That story says there was once a household with seven sons. The older three were beloved by their father, and the younger three by their mother, leaving the middle son loveless and forgotten. In an effort to please his parents he tried to cook dinner while they were out, but it resulted in a fire, which killed he and his brothers. Their souls ascended to the sky, and that is where they stay.”

“Must all the stories be so tragic?” murmured Kihyun.

“There are happy ones as well,” said Changkyun with a chuckle. “Let us wait for the night to grow, and then those stars will come into view.”

And so they lay there and waited for the stars to move. Kihyun did not mind at all. Changkyun’s presence was enough, and these quiet, comfortable moments filled his heart with a wamrth he could never describe.

“Do you ever wonder,” Changkyun asked quietly, breaking the silence, “why the stars move?”

Kihyun had not. The stars moved across the sky as the night got older. It was what they had always done. Why question how it came to be? “No,” he answered truthfully.

“I have,” said Changkyun. “Most believe the sky moves across the earth, which stands still.”

“But you do not,” said Kihyun.

“It makes no sense,” said Changkyun. He turned to face Kihyun. “Look at all the stars, Kihyun,” he said. “Look at how many there are. And I am to believe they are all moving around us?”

“Then what do you believe?” asked Kihyun, perplexed.

“I believe we are moving, not the stars,” said Changkyun. “Have you ever looked out of a moving carriage, and felt as though it was the scenery that was moving past, and not you? That is us, Kihyun. That is the Earth.”

Kihyun tried to grasp Changkyun’s line of thought. “Then the sun…?”

“The same—we are moving, not her,” said Changkyun, and there was that spark in his eyes, that excitement. “I have read a few astronomers’ theories stating the same thing, and I believe they are correct.”

It was so counterintuitive Kihyun had difficulty believing it. But in the same vein, he did not see any flaws with Changkyun’s thinking. It was simply so different from most everyone else's.

“One day, someone will prove it,” said Changkyun as he turned to face the sky once again. “I am sure of it.”

Kihyun could only stare in wonderment. He had never met a person like Changkyun before, and he did not think he would meet another like him again.

Someone with a mind like his, one that looked at things differently, that could grasp such fantastic ideas. Someone who looked at things with wonder, with curiosity. Someone who felt art, someone who fell into fictional words and took something out of them. Someone who was pure of heart, kind to all irrespective of wealth of status. Someone who was so uniquely Changkyun.

Like the opening petals of a flower, a memory bloomed in Kihyun’s mind. The last time he had sat before a vei deck, the day Hyungwon had interpreted their future. Kihyun’s fateful third card had been the six of Flowers, the card of romantic happiness.

Happiness. Kihyun had not given thought to that aspect of the card, considered it impossible. How could he ever have a happy future with Changkyun? When they were who they were?

Kihyun looked at Changkyun, at his face turned to the night sky, at the stars reflected in his eyes. Had he ever been happier than right then?

This moment, Kihyun realized, was his six of Flowers.

He reached for Changkyun’s hands and grasped it tightly. Changkyun tilted his face at that, raising an eyebrow. Kihyun shook his head and smiled. He had nothing to say. A faint smile touched Changkyun’s lips, and then he looked at the sky full of stars once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written a oneshot set in this same universe, focusing on another king and his consort. It's called [Only One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464373), and I hope you'll give it a read! 
> 
> This was supposed to be Changkyun's birthday chapter ^^;; Hope you guys will like this late gift anyway.  
> Happy (late) birthday to the lovely, lovely Valaena ♡

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on writing and pacing this like a full novel. Hopefully it reads well enough. Updates will probably be slow, sorry.
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://alette-stars.tumblr.com/) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/alette_star), and I have a [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/alette_star) too. I welcome any and all messages, including critique, so don't hesitate! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you're enjoying it so far. I don't reply to comments, but I appreciate them immensely. Whether you've commented, left a kudos, or simply read, thank you


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